Of Love and Legend
by Fiction Chronicler Nick
Summary: She was supposed to leave him and all the odds were stacked against them, but Venom refused to give her up. A tale of a one-eyed snake and his vanishing butterfly.
1. The Quiet in the Storm

1: The Quiet in the Storm

He was roused by the shrill ringing in his ears and the intensified pain from the shrapnel in his head.

The tank shell exploded so closely that it took him a few moments to get his bearings. The mission, Lamar Khaate Palace, vocal cord parasites, panicked Soviet soldiers frightened at how much damage two people were capable of. Yes, two. He came here for someone. All the racing thoughts that greeted him upon waking exponentially added to the pain of his already throbbing head. And then, he found the quiet in the storm of his own mind.

The woman he came here for lied a few feet away from him.

With a massive effort, the horned man turned on his side, and began crawling. With an even greater effort, he blocked out the phantoms and memories that eagerly knocked on the doors of his fragile mind. Can't think about that now. He had to focus on getting her out of here. Armored reinforcements were bound to arrive, and neither the crawling snake nor his broken butterfly had plenty of a fight left in them.

Coarse sand chafing on exposed skin on his battledress all the while, he eventually found himself kneeling next to the butterfly.

"Quiet," said Venom Snake, attempting to rouse her, a hint of worry in his usually stoic voice. After years of fighting on dozens of different battlefields, the old soldier has seen his share of grievous wounds on beloved comrades and enemies alike. From torsos riddled with machinegun fire to heads nearly severed by the fearsome Kukri knives, Snake had seen it all.

Her injuries by far weren't the worst he saw, but his heart sank nonetheless. A piece of metal, no doubt a fragment of the tank shell that exploded mere moments ago, embedded itself on the side of her gut. Smaller fragments hit home on her right shoulder and left thigh.

Doing what she did whenever he radioed her name on the battlefield, she flashed him a thumbs up and instantly regretted it. The pain caused her to wince weakly.

Snake gently steadied her and as if on cue, a sandstorm started to break out. Ignoring it, the Boss accessed his iDroid and found it a tad worse for wear. With the fluctuating holographic screen and unresponsive controls, he wouldn't be able to call in Pequod. They would have to exfiltrate on foot and lie low for now.

His radio emitted weak static, and he could barely make out Kaz's voice. "Sn...ke...hear...me...signated...anding...zone...dinates...on...Droid..."

Snake had to make a decision. Despite its damaged state, the iDroid showed him the location of the landing zone. If he proceeded to the LZ now, nearby Soviet reinforcements might hear the chopper touching down. Five or six soldiers is nothing the chopper's minigun couldn't handle, but an entire armored regiment? They'd be shot down within seconds. That is if the sandstorm doesn't bring the chopper down first.

Snake radioed Kaz. "Kaz, this is Ahab. Call off Pequod. I repeat, call off Pequod. I will exfiltrate the hot zone with the target on foot. Gotta get out of this storm and shake off the reinforcements on our tail. Once I give our coordinates, tell Pequod to ready some medical supplies. I've got some wounded here. Ahab out."

The distant rumbling of engines piercing through the howling sandstorm told Snake it was time to move. Ignoring his protesting muscles and torn flesh, he gingerly hefted Quiet up, careful not to press the killing pieces of metal deeper in her. He couldn't extract them now, for he didn't have medical supplies to deal with the profuse bleeding that would follow soon after.

Night-vision goggles helped with the near-zero visibility. The last he checked his watch, it was 03:01 hours. They fought for four hours non-stop in that damned palace. Nothing however, could help with the thousands of sand particles slamming against his body at 40 miles per hour. The Afghan sandstorm, formerly advantageous in clandestine ops, was now working against Snake.

Twice he stumbled on inconspicuous rocks and nearly dropped a stirring Quiet from his shoulders. After ten more minutes of walking and jogging, the sandstorm gradually weakened, but so did Snake. His unattended injuries and fatigue finally caught up with him, and the legendary mercenary collapsed face-first on the sands.


	2. Phantoms at Home

_Author's Note: Metal Gear Solid is owned by Konami and created by Hideo Kojima-san. The "Of Love and Legend" short story is strictly fan work and nothing more. No copyright infringement is intended and the author does not own Metal Gear Solid nor any associated content._

Chapter 2: Phantoms at Home

 _Two months earlier_

 _Another one to add to the collection, huh?_ The silent sniper thought.

Now onboard the Aerial Command Center, Quiet, having removed her gloves, busied herself patching up Snake's lacerated forearm. The CIA operative they just extracted was now heavily dozing on the seat opposite to Quiet's usual place, but neither of them paid attention to him. The last Walker Gear driver Snake subdued managed to nick the latter's good hand. In three deft moves, Snake disarmed, choked and fultoned the lucky soldier. He inspected the knife that tagged him. With its distinct pattern and patina, it was definitely a genuine Damascus blade. Though Snake wasn't one to slit throats, he stowed the beautiful blade anyway.

"Thanks. I appreciate it, but I could patch myself up." Snake said.

She glared at him. _Not with that bionic hand you're not, you idiot. You can barely load a magazine precisely with that thing, let alone sew gaping wounds_.

Despite himself, Snake chuckled, "I can field strip and clean my MRS just fine with this tin can you know, so there's that. I thought Spying Harrier did a pretty good job at these things," referring to Mother Base's bionics specialist.

 _Your arm isn't exactly an assault rifle. It needs a more gentle touch._

"Well, I do commend your... gentle hands. Can barely feel a thing while you work. Thank you."

This elicited a small smile from her, and he couldn't help but take notice of her features again with so little distance between them. Her elegant jawline, prominent nose, the way her mouth curled upwards and those bright, green eyes. She was beautiful and he was secretly attracted to her, but the legendary soldier remained as stoic as ever. He couldn't distract himself from the missions and hence put both their lives in more danger than they already found themselves in.

Satisfied with her handiwork, she now had this hesitant look in her eyes. Before Snake could ask, she quickly kissed his hairy cheek.

 _Take care of yourself next time. Wouldn't want two tin cans instead of one now, would we?_ Her teasing eyes seemed to say as she returned to her usual spot in the ACC.

Responding with a half-smile, Snake took out his iDroid, hoping the holographic display would conceal his reddening cheeks. Pretending to be busy with micromanaging Mother Base, he glanced from time to time, watching his partner slowly fall asleep.

It didn't take long before he too was overtaken by slumber.

She was roused by a firm hand on her shoulder.

"We're here." Snake said, a certain pleasantness radiating from him. He looked better than when she bandaged his arm, with his eyes seeming more well rested. He must have fallen asleep too, she thought. With a smile, she nodded and sat up.

Before proceeding with his usual routine in takeoffs and touchdowns, using his good hand, he brushed some hair out of Quiet's face, which surprised the latter despite her enhanced senses.

"Look alive there, bedhead," Snake giving her one of his rare, full smiles.

 _He's never done that before_. But she can't say she minded the gesture.

Revolver Ocelot was not entirely correct. Contrary to the cowboy's assertion, she wasn't in love with the legend so much as the man behind it. During missions, Snake never missed the chance to extract prisoners, always gave them the choice to stay in Mother Base or not, and nothing was ever beneath the legendary soldier. If he had to spend a good part of the day searching for just one child soldier, he would carry it out with the same stoic determination that he has for more dangerous ops.

The Boss also took the most dangerous ops for himself, but not out of some misplaced sense of machismo or brashness. He just plain could not stomach putting his soldiers in more dangerous situations than he himself was willing to face. It would be easy for any mercenary commander to take the more average ops, but this man was different. He was truly ready to die for any of his soldiers in a heartbeat.

But he wouldn't pull any of that self-sacrificing crap under her watch. Not while she had his back on the field. Cipher could bite the dust any day for all she cared.

The jolt of the helicopter touching down broke her away from ruminating, and Snake stepped out of the chopper.

"Pequod, get some rest. I'll fill you in tomorrow if we have any missions for the week."

"Thanks Boss. Try to get some shuteye too and uh, maybe a shower," the young pilot said with a cheeky grin before ascending again. Two Diamond Dog soldiers helped up the CIA operative, and escorted the man to the infirmary.

Snake wasn't exactly clean as virgin snow, he'll admit. Afghanistan hasn't been particularly kind to him the past few missions. Heading to the portable shower unit, he felt another peck on the cheek, but there was no one there.

"Pulled your camo stunt for that, huh?" Snake muttered. "Keep this up and we'll both get beaten to death with a crutch."

Quiet decloaked, now a few paces in front of him.

 _Can't hit what you can't see._

"I know what you're thinking. Well, he did see you back when you nearly shot the hell out of my helicopter with Ocelot's peashooter. I swear, your camo stunt doesn't work on him."

This made her giggle. _Like the way your charm doesn't work on me. Rest up, Boss. Take it easy for the rest of the week. You've had some rough days._

She smiled, and cloaked again.

Shaking his head, he was about to open the shower door when he heard some raised voices towards his far left. Figuring the shower can wait, he made his way towards the commotion. Well that's something you don't see every day. Turns out Snake's fears weren't unfounded. Mother Base is in serious danger of becoming a daycare center.

"Some things can't be helped," said Ocelot, kneeling next to a group of African kids.

"What's going on here?" said Snake, approaching the scene. One of the boys replied for Ocelot. Apparently, Shabani's necklace fell into a pit emitting green gas. Snake was about to make his way to the pit when he was stopped by Ocelot.

"Don't even think about it, Boss. That entire area is being sanitized with chlorine disinfectant. One whiff, and it's all over. The necklace can wait."

Worn out from the day, Snake ceded. He turned to the boys, "Alright, we'll get it in the morning. I promise you that. Back to your quarters now, it's getting pretty damn late-"

Several of the boys pointed behind him and cried out in fear. Snake turned just in time to see Quiet leap into the chlorine pit. Rushing forward only to be stopped by Ocelot again, Snake yelled, "Hit the alarm!"

"Boss! Boss! Listen to me! There is no way to recover the body."

"Like hell I'm leaving her there. Get ahold of the Medical Team and tell them to bring a HazMat suit here ASAP. Now, Ocelot. I'm going in." His voice remained calm despite the speedy turn of events.

Against his better judgment, the cowboy obliged and radioed the head of the Medical Team, Gray Chameleon. Snake waited for what seemed like an eternity when he heard a thump behind him, quickly followed by a surprised cry from one of the boys. Heart in his mouth, he turned to see Quiet rising from the chlorine pit, her parasite-enhanced epidermis badly burned at several areas. Taking no heed of the necklace she held in her right hand, he surged forward and took her in his arms. The necklace dropped with a clatter on the metallic floor, but Venom Snake was now only thinking of the way to the infirmary.

All of a sudden, the memory of being engulfed in flames back in Cyprus was once again a reality. It was as if every fiber of her being was aflame. Only this time, instead of falling several stories, she could make out a hazy voice that brought her back to the present.

"Don't you die on me, soldier. You're gonna be alright. We're almost there."

The bearded face, the stars whizzing past in a blur and the steady gait were the last things she remembered before losing consciousness.

"You have acted wisely," said the Elder, breaking Snake from his trance. He rose from his seat by Quiet's bedside in the Medical Platform's infirmary.

"Code Talker. Thanks for coming despite the late hour."

"I hope I am not interrupting anything? I was just browsing some of my older research when one of your men called me."

"Not at all, she's not awake yet. You know about her physiology better than anyone. I didn't want to apply burn creams her parasites might reject anyway." Snake hoped that the Old Dine didn't see him holding her hand as the parasitologist wheeled in.

"Ah, but it seems you know enough, Big Boss. The head of your Medical Team told me along the way that you poured water over her? Is that correct?"

"Yeah, I took a risk. Thought it would help the parasites."

"And indeed it has. Unfortunately, that is all that can be done for now; you must trust the One That Covers to resuscitate her. At the crack of dawn, you must expose her to sunlight to further aid in recovery. But you cannot help her by keeping your vigil. Rest, and return in the morning."

"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind."

With a bow, the Elder took his leave and wheeled himself out of the infirmary.

Snake turned, and looked at her for a good while. Lightly kissing her forehead, Snake let go of Quiet's hand and made his way to Gray Chameleon's desk. The Diamond Dog was busy with some paperwork, but saluted as her commanding officer approached. It was now 01:22 hours.

"Um, morning Boss." She said with a cheeky smile.

"At ease, Chameleon. Listen, figured I'd stay for the night so might as well make myself useful. Any wounded here I can help with? Trust me, I know my way around bullet wounds."

"Uh, you sure, Boss? You just got back from Afghanistan. The boys'll be fine. Do you want us to take a look at that arm too? Looks pretty bad."

"It's alright Chameleon, thought I should visit this place more often anyway. And I'll be fine."

"Well, sure thing Boss." She took a few moments to find a particular document from her neat stacks of papers. "Here. I'll be sure to tell the team the Boss is helping out. I'd recommend starting with Howling Mongoose. His bandage needs to be changed at around this time already."

"Consider it done. Thanks." He was started walking away when his Senior Medical Officer called out to him.

"And Boss?"

"Mmm?"

"I know she'll be alright. She's in good hands so you have nothing to worry about."

Snake said nothing, but replied with a smile and a nod. Her words brought him no small comfort as the legendary soldier set about his mission objectives for the night. Or what was left of the night. One by one, he would methodically patch his men up, ignoring the pain that occasionally shot up from his bandaged arm. The men on the other hand were surprised and elated to find the Boss himself attending to their injuries. The Boss would curtly reply that it was all part of his job before telling them to get some rest.

As Snake worked, he had this strange sensation of all of it feeling natural. It's as if he attended to soldiers' injuries all his military career. That can't be right, I don't remember serving as a combat medic. As soon as the thought crossed his mind, a searing pain tore across his head and he had to hang on to a steel bedpost to steady himself. Not wishing to alarm the men, he collected himself, and the strange pain slowly ebbed away on its own.

From time to time, he would visit Quiet, smiling in satisfaction as her burns gradually receded. Still asleep, he realized that she hasn't had a decent rest for quite a while. She always volunteered to take first watch during missions and woke Snake up at wee hours of the dawn, getting less sleep for herself.

Next time, I'll take first watch, and there isn't anything she can do about it. Who's the Boss between us anyway? He thought to himself.

After attending to 17 patients in the span of three hours, he proceeded to the last one on his list. Upon reaching the cot, he nearly dropped his medical kit at what he saw. His eyes didn't deceive him. There, on the cot, was someone he thought dead for nine empty years.

Paz.

As he made his way toward her, the infirmary started to blur and he found himself back at Morpho's cabin. There was no mistaking it: the whirring of helicopter blades, enemy fire occasionally hitting Morpho, the red cabin lights.

It was 1975 all over again.

He methodically dug at her open guts, searching for the bomb Skull Face planted mere hours ago. But this can't be right. He wasn't the one that operated on her but-

It was the medic.

Why then are the memories so vivid? Is it the guilt for failing to save her, even if she did betray us? Still, it doesn't explain the way I remember it now. How am I seeing this through the eyes of our medic? How the hell-

The bomb exploded and everything went black.


	3. Butterfly on My Shoulder

Chapter 3: Butterfly on My Shoulder

Regaining consciousness in one of the cots, it was not the first time he had that nightmare, but nothing was quite as vivid as last night's. And the phantoms usually attacked once he fell asleep. _Damn, this can't happen in the field. Can't jeopardize the mission and if anything happened to Quiet-_

How is she right now? He was about to rise from the cot and check his watch when felt something pin his bionic arm down. There she was, still sound asleep lightly clutching his left arm and nearly free of last night's burns. Not wishing to disturb her, he gingerly freed his arm of her grasp and accessed his iDroid. _09:42 hours, huh? Was out pretty long._

"Morning Boss," one of his soldiers, Creeping Python, greeted him.

"At ease soldier. What happened?"

"What happened was that you just plain needed some rest, Sir. Doc says you collapsed from fatigue. Guys loved what you did for them Boss, but we'd also worry a lot less if you'd take a break every now and then. Good thing Quiet was here. She carried you to that empty cot. You sure were out cold, Boss," the young man said with a nervous smile.

"So she got up after I fell?"

"Didn't exactly see it Sir, but that's what the other guys said. She just stayed there ever since."

After a few moments, Snake asked, "What do you think of her, son?"

"Permission to speak freely, Sir?"

"Granted."

"We mostly have good guys around here, but she doesn't deserve the treatment the jackasses spitting at her cell give her. I think she's alright, Sir. Hell, you trust your life with her, I've got nothing to fear from her, Boss."

Snake appreciated the young man's straightforwardness, and after a few more minutes of conversation, Python took his leave. Snake made a mental note to deal with said _jackasses_ in the afternoon. Still seated at the cot and without turning, he sensed movement behind him. He knew she was now awake, shaking sleep out of bleary eyes.

"Morning. You didn't have to do that last night. You needed the rest and I'm no stranger to dozing on the floor anyway. If your condition worsened-"

She never found out what he was about to say next. Now seated on the cot, she slowly placed one hand over his mouth, and the gesture surprised even her, unsure of how he would react. Relieved at finding no resistance from him, she hummed softly in his ear, expressing mock reproach.

 _I'm fine, worrywart. And you didn't exactly look comfortable last night. Gotta take care of yourself in your old age. You're not as young as you used to be._

Gently lowering her arm with his mechanized one but keeping it around his shoulder, Snake said, "I should be mad at you. Needlessly putting yourself in danger and nearly giving me a heart attack? Don't ever do that again." He gripped her hand tighter, causing her to blush.

 _You do it all the time, Snake, and for total strangers. That's what made me fall in love you, not your legendary status on the battlefield._

If only she could say it out loud, right there and right now.

"It's my job to put my life on the line when I have to. There are people out there counting on me. That in itself already weighs heavily on my shoulders. You really wanna add the weight of losing you too?"

What naturally came out of him betrayed the words he so desperately kept unsaid.

Resting her face on his broad back, she embraced him tighter, hoping no one would pass by their fairly secluded spot at the infirmary as Creeping Python did earlier. She felt so close to him at this moment.

 _You're not losing me, Snake. It's just that I know the pain of losing your past, your loved ones. The necklace was all the kids had left of someone who must be very dear to them. I didn't want them to lose that too as I have lost so many of mine. I don't even have a single photograph of my parents, now._

"I realize that you were concerned for the kids, and I admire that. Just don't throw away your life like that again. You for a memento? I can't make that trade any day."

 _Enough of this, okay? I'm fine, and I'm not going anywhere._

"That's the only good thing I can take from all this, that you came out of that damn pit. Come here."

She came down and positioned herself beside him, equally surprised and elated to find his good arm wrap around her shoulder. There was practically no space between them.

"How are your burns? You holding up alright?"

She hummed her assent, mirthfully leaning on his shoulder.

"Good. Glad there's no permanent damage. Just let me know if anything feels off, okay? I don't know, write it down on paper or shoot a crate of Cuban cigars again."

She giggled at that last one. It took her no small effort to orchestrate that little stunt on Snake's past birthday. With the help of Ocelot, of course. She nudged his side.

 _Looping like your old cassettes. I said I'm fine, worrywart. But, just in case, I'll think of something. Hopefully doesn't involve you getting shot at this time around-_

"Mornin' Boss, gave us quite a scare there. Oh, excuse me, Snake. Am I interrupting anything?" said Ocelot as the cowboy waltzed in.

Snake reflexively stood up and faced his Chief Intelligence Officer, "Not at all, Ocelot. Something you want to talk about?" _Damn, that's the second time I heard_ interrupting _in the span of a few hours. Gotta seriously ramp up my situational awareness around here._

Ocelot could barely suppress a grin, "Actually, there is. But only if Quiet here's alright with that. Quiet, mind if I have a word with the Boss?"

Oblivious to her reddening cheeks, the young woman could only shake her head as she stood up to face the cowboy. _No, of course not. Well, I do actually, but I don't let me get in the way. With that, she cloaked, leaving behind a slightly disappointed Snake._

None of that however, showed on the Diamond Dog leader's face, especially not in front of his trusted officer. "What've you got there, Ocelot?" said Snake as the two men started pacing out of the infirmary.

"Hate to ruin your time together Boss, but-"

"Time together? Not what you're thinking, Ocelot. I was just checking if she had any more burns, that's it."

"Gotta say I do find your examination techniques... interesting. You weren't even looking at her. Looked more like a Hollywood couple before the credits start rollin.' Can't say Miller would be too pleased, though." Ocelot smiled at the thought.

"Ocelot." Snake added as much steel as he could to his voice in a vain attempt to mask his anxiety. "How's everything?"

"Alright Boss, I won't pry. I am your intel officer after all, not your love guru." He allowed himself a small chuckle at that. Collecting his thoughts, he turned to face a red-faced Snake with a more serious countenance this time.

"Boss, I know you're just coming off Afghanistan last night, but there's an emergency mission I thought you'd want to handle. One of our Intel guys was working behind enemy lines, and we lost contact just two days ago. He didn't say anything 'bout radio silence, so we figured he blew his cover."

"Getting on it ASAP. Hope our man's alright. Got any intel I can work with?"

"Already on your iDroid. Pequod's waiting for you at the helipad over there. Takin' a buddy with you?"

"Taking DD for this one. It's imperative we find our guy as soon as possible. Cipher can wait."

"Uhuh. Well, a vanguard sniper could scout the area just as well. And with the area being pretty heavily guarded, having captured one of Big Boss' men, you could use some combat support," said Ocelot, utilizing a lifetime of espionage training to keep a straight face.

"Never gonna let this drop, huh? No Ocelot, and that's the long and short of it. She just came from a chlorine bath, and it's been mission after mission for us for the past few months. Thinking she needs a break from the field."

"Whatever you say, Boss. Wouldn't worry too much about stressing her out though. Seems like whenever she's with you, she might as well be taking a break."

Before Snake could reproach the smug son of a gun, Ocelot took his leave to fetch DD. Taking out a Phantom Cigar, Snake took a few minutes to relax before the long flight to Afghanistan, taking in the faint scent of wormwood and feeling the morning sea breeze of the Seychelles. The clock was ticking for his captured man. Look's like breakfast's on Pequod, then: packed rations. Excellent. If only he could trade all of the rations in Mother Base for a well-cooked snake over an open fire. Now that was actually something. The thought of that delicious morsel made his stomach growl. He missed his younger days.

He nearly choked on the Cigar when he felt something connect rather forcefully, but not too painfully, with his belly.

"What was that for?" Snake said between coughs. He immediately knew who the culprit was.

His sniper decloaked in front of him, looking none too happy. _So you're going on a dangerous op on your own? All because I took a few flesh wounds last night?_

"Quiet, your orders are to take some R & R. You've exceeded expectations these past few missions, and I think you deserve a break. Don't worry, I'll be taking DD with me."

 _DD? The dog? I'll admit he's cute, but what's a dog going to do if bullets start whizzing past your head? Bite the Soviets' heads off like some new chew toys?_

Her displeasure at not being able to join Snake was growing more apparent on her face. Appeasing the flustered young woman, he gently put his good hand on her shoulder.

"Quiet, I'll be fine. It's you I'm concerned about. Just get some rest for me. Don't you worry about me. Been handling solo infiltrations for quite a while now." Snake said with a small smile.

The sniper cast her eyes down. _But I'm here now. You don't have to go out there on your own, Snake. I said I'm fine. Let me come with you._

He saw Ocelot approaching with DD in the distance. Wishing to avoid another awkward situation, he broke away from her. Behind him, Pequod started firing up the engines.

"Gotta go, Quiet. If all goes well, I'll see you in two. I'll be getting our man out and that'll be it; no side ops. In the meantime, take care."

 _Come back safe. Come back to me._

He turned away and boarded the chopper, refusing to believe he saw a tear fall from her eye. The legendary soldier could not concern himself with feeble sentiment; the very notion is unbecoming of the legend of Big Boss. Especially now, when the life of one of his own is at stake. DD soon boarded as well, and Snake returned Ocelot's wave. He couldn't see Quiet anymore; must have pulled her camo stunt again.

As Pequod ascended, he missed that familiar thump that told him a certain beauty was clinging to the side of his helicopter. He wasn't exactly crazy about that habit of hers, particularly when they had to exfiltrate under enemy fire. Hmm, might tell her to start getting in more quickly next time, Snake thought.

As Snake slammed the sliding door shut, he took his usual spot at the ACC and fished out his iDroid. After a few minutes of silence and incessant prodding of gut feelings that kept him alive countless times before, Snake could not take it anymore.

"You know DD, nothing's supposed to get past you. That includes invisible, supersoldiers who blatantly disobey direct orders. Any chance there might one here, boy?"

The wolfdog pricked up his ears at the mention of his name and stared at his master innocently.

"Uhuh, two of my best buddies conspiring behind my back. At this rate, wonder if D-Horse's plotting something too. You can come out now. Kaz isn't the only one who can see through that stunt of yours. I'm down one eye, not blind."

 _He knows I'm here! Maybe he's just testing the waters. No reason to blow my cover yet._

He wasn't sure whether to admire or be annoyed at her tenacity. He was sure she was here. Perhaps it was the sixth sense he developed on the battlefield or the strong bond they shared, but he was absolutely certain. Well, she forced his hand. Time to call in a bluff. He took out an ordinary pair of night-vision goggles.

"Take a look at this DD. Had Code Talker and the R&D guys cook this up for me a week ago. These goggles are especially attuned to detecting the One That Covers."

Snake patted himself on the back at his own baloney. He wondered if she would really take the bait.

"Figured this would save my neck in the field. How about we test it now? Cipher could have intel that I am at my most vulnerable in the ACC right?"

 _Don't you dare you smug-_

Before he could put the "special" NVGs on, he felt a small pair of hands hold his own, although she has not decloaked just yet. He chuckled despite her insubordination.

"Took you long enough. I win." She came into view soon enough, with mere inches between their faces. The dog wagged his tail at the sight of her but didn't get up, not wishing to disturb the pair. If Pequod were surprised, the young man did an excellent job at hiding it.

 _I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disobey an order. Well, that's what I just did, but I only wanted to watch your back. You weren't supposed to find out I was here. And you did say two. For all I cared, that could have been two minutes so-_

He put a finger to her lips to steady the thoughts racing in her mind. He was not sure of her exact words, but with how expressive those two green gems were, she might as well have been thinking out loud.

"I'm not mad, Quiet. You've gone this far to come with me, then fine, I'll allow it. But once we land, you're not staying as close as you usually do to enemy forces. In the off chance I get spotted, give me five minutes to fix it first. Nobody gets tranq'd unless I say so. Most important of all, watch yourself. I'll handle the target. Is that clear?"

A nod, followed by a small smile.

She could get used to getting surprised. Catching her off-guard, Snake kissed her forehead after brushing some hair out of the way, and pulled her closer to his chest.

"I'd trust my life with you any day. It's just that I can't stand the thought of you getting hurt out there."

 _Same here, Snake._

She rose and hesitantly sat beside him, which elicited no protest from him. He wrapped his good arm around her and held the iDroid in the other. In a matter of minutes, she was dozing on his shoulder. She was still as a tree, with her defunct lungs betraying no rising nor falling of her chest. She always felt light against him, feeling that he could hold this position for a good long while.

Lowering the display brightness if his iDroid, he went over the mission details again. Slowly constructing a battle plan in his head, he formulated a sequence of steps on how to extract the target and several back up options in case Murphy's Law goes toe-to-toe with the legend of Big Boss. Snake was obsessed with preparing for missions, and for good reason. He realized a long time ago that the mission's outcome was determined long before the operator finds himself on the field. Success is also determined in the briefing room and how well the soldier prepares for the dynamics of the mission.

Satisfied with his plans, he leaned on Quiet's head and caught some shuteye himself.

He loved her with ease, but telling her that was an entirely different story.


	4. Redemption

4: Redemption

 _Present Day_

In his three years of service in the Soviet Army, Zoya 1 had never been more afraid. But that's okay. Posted at a nearby outpost north of Lamar Khaate Palace, the four other guys with him just as scared shitless. If only it didn't entail treason or otherwise carry dire consequences, he and his companions would have bolted long ago, shamelessly abandoning their post.

Zoya 1 clutched his SVG rifle tightly, thinking of his wife with child at home. It was at that moment that so many fears compounded into one, hellish night. There was the fear of not seeing his family again, getting his throat slit by a legendary soldier, or getting a 7.62 bullet lodged in his brain by a merciless sniper. He wasn't ready to die now; he had to hold his firstborn in his arms first.

Though wounded and fresh from a fight with a full-fledged armored regiment, Big Boss and Tixij struck fear in the hearts of the soldiers in that area though none of them would tell their superiors. If the legendary mercenary was able to recruit the vanishing sniper, who then would stop them from taking out the Soviets one by one? Just one of these supersoldiers already presented a grave threat to the Soviet Army, but working together? There was simply no words for it.

Sweat was running down his brow though daybreak hasn't arrived yet. He felt cold in the chilly Afghan night when he realized terror-piss stained his fatigues. He strained to be vigilant in the darkness, seeing specters and phantoms dancing in the shadows. He couldn't take it anymore; he had to talk with his comrades to retain his sanity.

If a scared man could be filled with any more dread, Zoya 1 fit the bill. All four of his companions lied motionless on the ground. They are here, he could feel it. Turns out his fears weren't unfounded after all. In his rising state of panic, it never crossed his mind to contact his superiors.

"Show yourselves!" He yelled in Russian, while frantically searching around him. "Those were my comrades! You'll pay for that!"

Nothing.

"Coward! You're no legendary soldier! Just a man who sneaks in-"

"-just close enough for you to hear me."

Just like that, Zoya 1's rifle was pulled from his grasp and steel bars clamped around his neck, rendering him effectively paralyzed. Apparently, Big Boss or whoever the hell his attacker was could fluently speak Russian.

"Make a noise like that again and it'll be the last thing you do."

"My... my comrades..."

"Are all unconscious. But if you or any of your men come after me, none will be spared. Is that clear?"

"Y... yes."

"The sniper, Tixij, where is she?"

"I... I don't know! All I know is about the battle at Lamar Khaate and how the enemy escaped. An armored regiment's on the manhunt for Tixij and... you."

"Lie to me again and your throat will be worse for wear. I will ask one more time: where is Tixij?"

"I swear I don't know! No one has radioed anything to me yet. We thought all this time she was with you! Please don't kill me, that's all I know. That's all I know."

Satisfied that the poor soldier was telling the truth, he tranq'd him with his Wu pistol, with the man collapsing heavily on the ground. Snake didn't have the strength for another choke hold.

He knew he needed to move quickly, especially with dawn fast approaching. His body felt more like lead with each passing minute, probably because there was a bit of lead in him. He was certain a couple of grunts managed a few lucky shots at his battledress, but he didn't have time to undo the broken ceramic plates and check his injuries. He knew that somewhere out there, she too was bleeding.

But why the hell did she take off like that? Again? As he awoke ten minutes after collapsing, it alarmed him that she was nowhere to be found. Whatever happened, Snake couldn't afford to speculate right now. Right now, there is only the mission and her.

Deja vu sent a chill down his spine. _The mission or her?_ He tore his mind away from the thought and finally radioed Miller.

"Kaz, this is Ahab. Do you read me? Over."

"Sn...ke. Boss where are you? Have you secured the target?"

Good, signal was clearing up, "Negative, I lost consciousness and Quiet was gone by the time I came to. Does the Intel Team have a fix on her location?"

"Negative. Boss, I'm sending an extraction helicopter to pick you up. Coordinates of the LZ are on your iDroid. Let the Diamond Dogs take care of the target. A squad is on its way now." Kaz made no mention of the squad member packing a 7.62 MRS sniper rifle. The Boss didn't need to know that.

"Can't abandon the mission, Kaz. Tell the squad to assist Pequod in search-and-rescue. Nothing more. When they locate Quiet, the coordinates will be sent to me. Tell them to keep an eye out for enemy forces. Ahab out."

Snake didn't have the energy to listen to Miller's protests. He radioed Pequod next.

"Pequod, do you copy? This is Ahab."

"Boss! How the hell are you? Loud and clear. Give me a fix on your position and I'll pick you up."

"I'm fine, but we can't exfiltrate yet. I need you to look for Quiet from your position. I lost consciousness and we got separated."

"Affirmative. What was her last known position?

"We were around... Coordinates sent..."

Whether it was the blood loss, gravity of his injuries or fatigue from fighting practically the whole day, Snake collapsed again. He could barely make out Pequod's voice in his earpiece and the world was blurring around him. Through half-lidded eyes, he thought he could make out Quiet's worried face looking down at him. Was it really her, was he dead, or was it another of his phantoms disguising as the woman he secretly loved? In his current state, Snake did not really care.

She was by his side again, and that was all that mattered.

Onboard a Blackfoot en route to Big Boss' location, Charging Rhino was checking his gear and so were five other Diamond Dogs. Rhino was halfway through his ritual when Commander Miller radioed him through his earpiece.

 _Not again. Did I really join the Diamond Dogs for this?_

"Rhino, you're almost at the LZ. You know the drill. Once you have a visual on the target, you take the shot. That thing won't pull the wool over the Boss' eyes much longer. He's suffered enough. We've suffered enough," said Miller, his voice saturated with venom.

Speaking so as not to be heard by his comrades, Rhino replied, "Commander, still having second thoughts about this. The Boss has a strong bond with her, and I thought-"

"You can tell what you think to Cipher, Dog. She's been fooling the Boss all this time, and so have all of you. Hell, she almost got him killed today. It ends today, Rhino. You are to eliminate the target and the English strain of parasites. If I hear you say anything more about hesitation, you're packing your bags. Got that? You're one of the best crack shots we have. I'd hate to see you go."

"Consider the mission done, Sir. Rhino out."

 _Boss, forgive me. Can't say I agree with Commander Miller, but she does pose a threat to at least a sixth of the world population. You don't have to do it yourself, Boss. It'll be over before you know it. As for me, I'll await the day of your forgiveness._

They have arrived. One of the men opened the Blackfoot's sliding door while they were still a good 30 feet in the air, and sure enough, Quiet was kneeling beside the Boss. _Attending to his injuries_. Was this really the woman Miller wanted him to execute?

Rhino said to the pilot, "Falcon, keep us in the air and keep the bird as steady as possible."

"The hell's going on, Rhino?" said one of the Diamond Dogs as Rhino pointed the MRS sniper rifle to Quiet's head.

"My orders are to eliminate the English strain, and its host. Anyone who interferes gets locked up in the brig. The Boss won't be touched."

Before he could hesitate any further or any of the men could throw his aim off, Rhino pulled the crisp four-pound trigger. Four pounds for her life.

He never really lost consciousness, but he wasn't exactly fully awake either. He hadn't felt this close to dying since the '75 crash. Maybe he was dead and just entered heaven. Through dulled senses, he could tell that Quiet was methodically undoing the ceramic plates covering his battledress, and then proceeded with the sneaking suit underneath. Huh, that was weird. Could they still do that in the afterlife?

He looked toward his left, and his unstoic thoughts were immediately brushed aside. A medical kit, undoubtedly from one of the guardposts. So that's why she left.

Mustering the will to think and speak clearly, he began, "Hang on, I'm fine. It's your injuries we should be attending to. What were you thinking, taking a tank shell like that?"

Despite the dangers presented by being in enemy territory, not to mention his injuries, he couldn't help but smile at her piercing glare through tired eyes. How long has it been since he last saw that? Two months?

 _Hold still, you idiot. I'm almost done cleaning this wound, but I haven't checked the others yet._

"Quiet, I'm serious. Your wounds need medical attention. I've walked away from worse, trust me," he started getting back up, only to be pushed down by her again.

 _And yours don't? Snake, I don't care if you took a nuke before and lived. Just help me and stay still. Here, I found your iDroid. Thought it was bust, but I managed to send our coordinates. Pequod'll be here and I'll live till he arrives._

Snake took the battered iDroid, "Sent our coordinates huh? Hope you didn't do anything else. Like bankrupt us or sell off Mother Base. Kaz'll really hate you now. But forget what I just said. Thank you, for saving me. Would've bled out from all these holes if it weren't for your gentle hands."

If she weren't focused on meticulously cleaning his wounds, she would have allowed a giggle to escape her. In the long hours of waiting, trekking or driving around the dunes of Afghanistan or red soil of the Angola-Zaire border, his dry wit never failed to diffuse the occasional boredom she felt in the field. For the most part, he rarely talked during deployments. When he did however, she enjoyed listening to his gravelly voice, lamenting all the while not being able to reply in words. As they got to spend more time however, it mattered less and less to her. Theirs was a language that had no use for words, let alone forgettable small talk. The occasional hand on a shoulder, poke to the belly and knowing look that said _I've got your back no matter what_ -that was their common tongue.

After a few moments, Snake spoke again, "Quiet, I hope you didn't have to kill for those medical supplies. Enough blood has been spilled today, and none of those men had to die. If even just one had to die for me to be healed-"

She couldn't put a bloody finger on his lips, so she held his face instead, slowly shaking her head. _Snake, stop worrying. I snuck in a guardpost without anyone noticing me and found you here. That's all that happened while I was gone. I know this is all my fault, and I'm sorry for dragging you into this. It's just that... I didn't want to endanger you after you lost so much already. But that's just it. In my fear of endangering your life, I only ended up placing you closer to harm's way._

Fighting back tears, she continued with her doctoring, her enhanced vision allowing her to operate despite the poor visibility in the hours before sunrise. To her surprise, his good hand found her cheek, and something about that gesture freed all the tears she fiercely held back.

Slowly, Snake began, "I can't tell you everything's okay, but don't blame yourself for what happened. That firefight's history now, so don't chain yourself to the past. I realize you meant well, that you didn't want to infect me or my men. You got captured, we had to fight our way out, and now we're here. But I know that if something like that ever happened again, I'd do it all again for you."

More tears welled up at what he just said. Something about what he just said reached a part of her that remained untouched for a long time. _I killed a lot of men, Snake. Not just today, but even before I met you. When I was interrogated, they showed me a list of all the men I shot. It never hit me so hard until today._

The Boss seemed to read her mind, "We've both done some terrible things, Quiet, and we're gonna have to live with that. All that's left is to do what we can to redeem ourselves. We can't do that if we're too busy feeling sorry for ourselves, can we? We hold our rifles close to our chests so that others may hold their loved ones instead. We strip this world of nukes so that no one man or nation may order the wicked to perish with the innocent. We battle Cipher so that the world may not know the horrors of wordlessness or proliferated bipedal tanks like we do. That is what we do, so stop crying, soldier," he took her hand in his and brushed away her tears with the other as he said the last words.

She pressed her head to his chest without causing damage. _Yes, Boss._

The two operatives rested for a few moments. After around 15 minutes, the whirring of two helicopters was heard in the distance.

"Quiet, is that Pequod? Do you have a visual on our logo?"

She hummed in assent. _Two Diamond Dog Blackfoots headed our way. There's our ride, Boss._

"Good, help me up-"

 _No, we'll get a stretcher and I'll be hearing none of it. Maybe I shouldn't have given you morphine. You're getting all cocky again._

"Alright, Quiet." Snake ceded to that iron stare.

As Pequod and the other Blackfoot approached their position, the former began his descent. The latter stayed in the air at an altitude of around 30 feet and its sliding door opened to reveal the operatives inside. Whether it was the glint of the scope or the outline of the muzzle sticking out of the Blackfoot's profile, Snake detected the gunman zeroing in on Quiet and pushed her at the last millisecond.

Traveling at a steep angle, the bullet tagged her upper back and exited clean through her right lumbar region. Snake's sudden movement panicked the shooter, causing a harder trigger pull and a lower shot. As she soundlessly fell on the sands, Snake got up in a crouch position and instinctively placed himself between her and the shooter, drawing his suppressed .45 ACP handgun.

What happened next would have impressed even The End himself, rest his soul. As his Diamond Dog soldiers cried out not to shoot, Venom Snake found the front sight and fired. Poor visibility, an airborne moving target, fatigue, and a firearm more suited for close quarters did not stop the bullet from hitting home. The handgun bullet tore through the receiver of the shooter's rifle, effectively destroying it. Charging Rhino just lost his "baby," but was otherwise unharmed. His peers could only stare at the rifle, dumbstruck.

Snake quickly holstered and examined his sniper's wound, lying ominously still. He felt that his world was falling apart, because indeed she was. The exit wound was near the shrapnel lodged at her side. Applying pressure and pouring water around the broken tissue at the same time, he was counting yet again on The One That Covers to save her life. Pequod was soon beside him, wasting no time in sealing and bandaging the bleeding hole at the side of her gut.

The second Blackfoot touched down, and the operatives started disembarking. Behind Snake, a voice began. "Boss, I alone assume full accountability. My men had nothing to do with it. Commander Miller-"

His words were cut off by a left hook with a bionic fist, and he hit the ground hard. Luckily, or unluckily, the worst-case scenario was a dislocated jaw rather than a brain hemorrhage.

"I need the medic in this squad," Snake's voice was dangerously low.

One of the men raised his hand, not daring to speak. Big Boss beckoned him closer.

"Pequod, how fast can you get us to Mother Base?"

Without taking his attention off of bandaging Quiet, the young pilot replied, "Around ten hours if I punch it, Boss. Nine if the weather's fine."

Snake then turned to the medic, "You're riding with Pequod. Attend to her injuries and keep her stable in the next nine hours. Anything happens to her, I'm holding you, that son of a bitch right there, and Miller responsible. I assure you-you will not like that."

Snake quickly disarmed the medic of all his weapons, and then with Pequod's help, carried Quiet to his personal helicopter on a stretcher. They had to move quickly. The distant rumbling of tank engines was getting clearer and Quiet had little time left.

As soon as the medic was onboard Snake's chopper, the Boss commanded, "Pequod, get to Mother Base's Medical Platform ASAP. I want the medical team ready by the time you hit the helipad. Do not stop for anything, and check on Quiet from time to time."

"Wait, Boss, you're not coming with us?"

The young man received no reply. Snake already slammed the door shut from the outside. Having faith in the Boss' decisions, the young man took off and, true to his word, pushed the bird to its limits like never before. _Time to see what a Blackfoot's really made of_ , Pequod thought. The life of someone he cared about, all because she cordially cared about the man he admired, depended on it.

Now rearmed with various non-lethal grenades, a suppressed UN-ARC chambered for stun rounds, Quiet's "Guilty Butterfly," and an FB MR launcher, Snake spoke to the other Diamond Dogs onboard the second chopper.

"Your new mission is to escort Pequod to Mother Base. This order's coming straight from me: effective immediately, Kazuhira Miller is temporarily suspended from his duties as Mother Base's Executive Officer. You are not to follow any orders from him. Is that clear?"

"Sir, yes Sir," the men said in unison.

"I'll hold off the Soviets to cover your escape for as long as humanly feasible. Once I run out of ammunition, I will proceed to these coordinates and we're getting out of this hellhole. I will radio you ahead of time. Falcon, got that?"

The pilot of the chopper replied, "Clear as day, Boss. It's just that those coordinates you sent are a long way on foot. Can you make it Boss? We can land closer."

"Negative. Any closer and you'll run a higher risk of getting shot down. The hills should also obscure the enemy's vision. If I take more than one hour to get there, carry on with your mission and do not turn back. If you take enemy fire, leave the hot zone immediately and do not wait for me any longer. Now take to the skies."

"Boss wait," it was that voice again, Snake thought in askance.

"Let me stay behind instead. I deserve it. You don't have to do this, Boss. Let me redeem myself," said Charging Rhino, his jaw still badly bruised from the bionic punch.

"You want to redeem yourself? Get all your boys home and never draw a weapon on a comrade again. Understand?"

The door slammed shut before either men could say anything else. As the chopper flew further from Snake, he positioned himself by the roadside, taking cover behind a large boulder. The phantoms lingered in his mind again. There was the fear of Pequod not making it to Mother Base in time, losing her while she suffered all the while, never getting to see her again should he lose his life in the ensuing battle or she lose hers in his helicopter. Snake took a deep breath as he spoke loudly in his mind. _Not gonna happen. She will not be taken today._

The glaring headlights of the lead tank illuminated the road ahead, inching closer to Snake. Time to light the fuse.


	5. Hunters

5: Hunters

The first to go were the ones who stood the highest chance of spotting him.

Snipers.

With the aid of noctocyanin and thermal goggles, Snake began with the Soviet marksmen covering the advance of the armored convoy. The first one set up his perch a mere 20 meters away from Snake's boulder, scanning the road ahead with his Bambetov sniper rifle. Though he certainly had less ballistic protection with Quiet having removed most of the ceramic plates just a few moments ago, Snake could also move more silently despite all the gear he was carrying. It was almost like child's play as he stealthily crawled towards the first sniper and tranq'd the unsuspecting shooter with his Wu pistol within three meters.

The two remaining snipers in sight were not exactly within arm's reach, roughly 160 meters across the other side of the road. He quickly ziptied the unconscious sniper and took out Quiet's Guilty Butterfly, aiming at the sniper towards his left. His Renov tranquilizer rifle was strikingly similar in feel to Quiet's customized weapon, and he was grateful for that. Knowing that a part of her was with him calmed his nerves, and a thought flashed in his mind as he pulled the trigger, disappearing as quickly as it surfaced.

 _Don't you die on me, my love._

Within seconds, the second sniper fell unconscious as well, with the dart having embedded itself nicely in his neck. Chambering a fresh round, the third sniper did likewise. Lowering the tranquilizer rifle, he scanned the hills one more time. Confident that there were no snipers left, he slung the rifle over his shoulder. By some stroke of luck, all three snipers came without spotters. As soon as the shooter hits the hay, his buddy could easily alert the rest of the armored column, making Snake's job more hellish than it already is. As he carefully descended from his position, Snake picked another weapon from his arsenal.

Sleep grenades.

Accompanied by around 25 infantrymen advancing at walking speed, the four tanks drove slowly as well. Snake took note that some of the soldiers were packing an assortment of launchers, from standard-issue GROMS to Killer Bees. They were also better prepared this time around, with almost half of the soldiers wearing riot suits and armed with light machine guns.

Not that any of it will matter in the next five minutes.

Having estimated his projectiles' trajectory, Snake committed himself to his one-man skirmish. He tossed three grenades in quick succession, with Snake ensuring that their combined area of effect covered the entire armored column. A few managed to radio Soviet command after realizing what the hell was going on, but more and more were also dropping at that time. All four tanks stopped abruptly. Some began firing blindly, the repetitive machinegun fire taking the wee hours of the dawn by storm. Others ran around like madmen in a futile attempt to escape the sleeping gas.

Knowing that visibility would soon improve and that the gas was slowly dissipating, Snake tossed four smoke grenades for good measure. Hastily strapping on his gas mask, he made a dead sprint towards the armored column. The thermal goggles enabled him to see through the smokescreen as he set about neutralizing the last men standing. Two men at the rear of the column must have been wearing gas masks as well. As he got closer to his targets, Snake slowed to a walking pace and aimed with his UN-ARC set to three-round bursts. The first man fell with a surprised yell, but his stun rounds merely bounced off the second man's head, stumbling a few steps back.

 _Damn. Riot helmets with built-in gas masks?_

Before the second soldier could regain his balance, Snake surged forward and planted a bionic fist at the soldier's face. Those things may be bullet-resistant, but no way in hell were they shock proof. He proceeded further up the column, moving carefully like a wraith in the cover of everlasting smoke. Snake noted the outlines that registered in his goggles, shooting those with ordinary helmets and landing haymakers on the ones protected by riot suits. After five minutes of shooting, punching and tranquilizing (Snake did not even bother to reload his rifle, opting to transition to his Wu pistol instead), Soviet CP had no one left to talk to. All without a single loss of life. Miraculously, the blind firers completely missed their comrades.

Polishing his work, Snake planted newly-developed electromagnetic charges on all four tanks and set those off. The charges would not kill the unconscious crew inside, but they did destroy the tanks' vital systems, ensuring they would no longer be a threat.

Having completed his objective, the legendary soldier did another dead sprint towards his extraction chopper's location. He removed his mask and goggles as he ran, grateful for the fresh air and normal vision after that ordeal of a skirmish. Everything was clear now. His desire to see her again, alive and well-that was what kept him going despite the wounds he sustained. As he sped across the landscape of Afghanistan on foot, all of it felt detached and so distant from him-The Boss' Will, Cipher, revenge, the Les Enfants Terribles, even the idea of living up to the legend of Big Boss. At that moment, there was only Quiet. It is not that his entire world was reduced to one person knocking at death's door.

Rather, he found his world in her, and he just could not let that world die.

Snake started to go around the hill that provided his helicopter with some cover, eager to head back to base more than ever, "Falcon, this is Ahab. Hostiles have been neutralized. There in two minutes. Fire up the bird's engines now."

No response. _Damn, forgot to replace my radio._

As he got around the hill and approached the still grounded chopper, he actually missed the beheaded body of a squad member just a few meters to his right. It took a few moments to register in his mind that something was horribly wrong. Snake pulled out his .45 ACP handgun. The chopper did not show signs of damage, but it was not that that raised his suspicions.

Not a single squad member was onboard the Blackfoot.

He must have heard it, felt it or seen the shadow that was not there just a second ago, but Snake's senses and instincts kicked in. He sidestepped, pivoted on his heel and rapidly emptied the ten-round magazine at the blurry figure that materialized out of nowhere, glowing machete in hand. Without giving the dazed combatant a chance to recover, Snake pulled out his knife with his tin can. The machete went for Snake's head in a murderous downward stroke, but quick wrist manipulation soon gained him the possession of the machete. With two deft moves, two blades were embedded in the combatant's guts and brain, ending the fight after five seconds. That take cares of one, Snake thought as the Skull collapsed to the ground.

 _These bastards always came in fours._

Having cleared Afghan airspace, the orange streaks of dawn and their brilliant reflection on global waters replaced the virtually barren landscape. The sight alone was often enough to bring a smile to the young pilot's face despite seeing it countless times, but there would be none of that today for Pequod.

The next seven flying hours would be the longest in his entire career.

Having made up his mind, he initiated the autopilot program installed by the R&D guys just a few weeks ago and went to check on the one entrusted to his care. He knew that the Blackfoot's redundant warning systems would alert them of any bogeys in the area.

Fighting the emotional tides that threatened to wring tears from his eyes at what he saw, Pequod began, "How's our patient? Anything I can do to help?"

The medic, Spitting Lizard, pulled out a sizable shrapnel with his forceps. Blood flowed from the sniper's side.

"Take these. I need you to bandage that for me. Wait, who the hell's flying?" the medic said as he proceeded to her other wounds.

"Got the R&D guys to thank for that. Straight shot for the next couple of hours so might as well make myself useful here. Relax, got a life to save here."

Pequod wasted no time bandaging the wound, staunching the bleeding after a few seconds. He grabbed a nearby canteen, pouring water around her wound.

Perplexed, Lizard quipped, "What's that for? If you're cleaning the broken tissue, you're missing it."

"Saw the Boss do this once. She was grazed when we extracted that intel guy two months back. Not for her so much as her parasites. The better rehydrated they are, the faster they can heal her. I think."

"She's a freak. Got that figured out. We all would've been better off without her. I swear I didn't know about it, but the more I think of it, Rhino did us all a favor. Boss should've finished her off when he had the chance."

"Did he finish you off? Or your best bud? Or any other 'enemies' he neutralized on the battlefield? Then shut up and get to work. We'll settle this later," the pilot could not argue with the bastard while someone was dying in front of him.

"Nothing more I can do. Done patching everything up. She doesn't have long to live anyway. Her vital signs are dropping and I'm barely getting a pulse."

"What?"

He did not know whether to throw the scoundrel out to the sea or feel crushed by the thought of losing a close comrade, but Pequod pushed those thoughts aside when it hit him. What would the Boss do? Ignoring the other man completely, he poured more water on her forehead, her torso and her limbs. He got up and removed towels, spare jackets, spare headsets and other obstructions from the chopper's windows, allowing maximum sunlight in the cabin. The young pilot hoped against hope that the One That Covers was still around to do what it did best.

Keeping her alive.

He was rewarded with a more regular pulse, but it was still very faint. She was not out of the hot zone yet.

Pequod mindlessly sat back on the cabin floor, defeated. He looked past the medic, now stowing away the medical instruments, and blankly stared at where Big Boss usually sat in the ACC. But this chopper was no ACC today.

 _Boss, I'm sorry. I let you down. I let her down. I did all I could._

Occupied with his sorrow, he failed to notice that one of the dying butterfly's favorite tunes was playing on the stereo. There went the catchy chorus of Suspicious Minds by the King of Rock and Roll. It was her favorite partly because listening to Elvis helped her through a rough childhood, when dolls and playmates were uncommon sights. But that was ancient history now. The song was now her favorite for it came with a wonderful memory of the man she loved. Who knew that something playing in the background could preserve such a treasured moment so vividly?

If only Pequod noticed the small smile forming upon her lips as she fought her toughest battle yet.

 _Two months ago, 23:16 hours_

"Target secured. Great work, Snake."

Sitting by the chopper's open doorway, Snake acknowledged Kaz with a grunt. It was part of his job after all: occasionally pulling his men's asses out of the fire. DD got in before him and already settled in the copilot's seat. As Pequod made his ascent, he heard the familiar thump on the side of the chopper, but she did not decloak just yet. Probably did not want to be seen by the Intel operative?

"Quiet, get inside already. Truth be told, you make me nervous every time you do that," Snake said just loudly enough for her to hear amidst the whirring of helicopter blades.

He did not get a response. Well, a verbal one at least. Instead, he felt a gloved, invisible hand slowly run through his greasy and blood-caked hair, carefully avoiding the protruding horn.

Never heard of a soldier with the audacity to play with her commander's hair, but he can't say he did not like it.

"Alright, time to close the door."

 _You're no fun, Snake._

"If you fall off, I'm gonna have to explain to Pequod what happened, hand through hair and all."

He felt her stomp inside with mock annoyance, and soon enough, a depression formed on her usual spot in the ACC.

"Boss, did you hear anything?" the Intel team member asked as Snake slid the door shut. Just like other VIPs extracted before him, he took a seat opposite to the still invisible sniper.

"Oh, that was nothing. Probably just the helicopter's engine acting up," said Snake, trying to keep a straight face despite his exhaustion after the mission. Quiet always had this strange effect on him when she showed other sides of her other than being a damn fine markswoman. He was already well familiar with that side of her. It was "new ones" Snake had to get accustomed to. Could he really afford that in his line of work? Even if she was his partner on the battlefield?

Snake felt like he was playing with fire.

"If you say so, Boss. While I remember, this was all I managed to retrieve in my mission. I stole some documents as well, but I never saw them again when I was captured. You came just in time before they could search me more thoroughly."

The Intel team member took out a cassette tape from under his shirt and gave it to Snake. It was gleaming with the man's sweat, but Snake gave it no mind. He inserted it in his Walkman, but did not play it just yet. The Boss nodded his thanks.

"Can I get you anything? Packed rations, water? Any wounds we need to attend to?" asked Snake as he settled on his seat.

"Thanks Boss, but I'm good. Didn't get hurt that bad. Just a bit winded. Never been captured before."

"Shit can happen to anyone of us. Had my fair share of that too. In that case then, get some rest. That whole seat's yours for the night."

"Are you sure, Boss? My fatigues, they're-"

"So are mine, soldier. Actually, Pequod's the one we should be talking to. His helicopter after all. Pequod, mind if we leave some sand and dirt on your seats? We could really use some shuteye."

"Not at all, Boss. Go right ahead!" The cheerful pilot replied.

Snake turned to face the Intel team member, "That's settled then. Get some rest, soldier. Tell you when we're back at base."

"Thank you, Boss. My back's been screaming for this."

As soon as the man lied down on his seat, Snake knew he was fast asleep. You never really knew the wonders of shuteye until you got to be a soldier, Snake thought. He took out his iDroid and played his Walkman from there, listening intently from the left earpiece built into his sneaking suit. The tape was a whopping an hour and 45 minutes long. The first few minutes detailed weapon shipments, vehicle delivery orders and locations of Soviet ground commanders. Nothing seemed to be connected to Cipher so far.

His concentration was broken when he felt a head rest on his shoulder. There goes that side of her again.

He grinned, but did not look at the decloaked sniper yet, "First, insubordination, and now you're not letting me do my job. I'm considering a proper brig for you and throwing the key overboard."

 _Oh, sorry. Just pretend I didn't do that._

Fearing she overstepped her bounds, she began to move back to her usual seat but was stopped when Snake's hand found hers. His one good eye focused on those curious, green gems of hers.

"Quiet, I was pulling your leg, okay? As for this," Snake raised his iDroid, "Well, it can wait 'til we're back at Mother Base."

 _What the hell was I thinking, reaching for her hand like that?_ Snake thought.

Hesitantly, she gave him a small smile and sat again beside him. A few minutes passed before she leaned on his shoulder again, that one spot on the planet she was content to call her own. Snake on the other hand feigned indifference, controlling his iDroid with his bionic hand. Despite slackening his other hand's grip, she did not let go of his hand. He broke the rather comfortable silence between them.

"Besides, I should probably throw myself in the brig with you. I am allowing you to distract me from deeply important affairs uploaded on my iDroid."

She leaned a tad more into him, threatening the legendary mercenary's balance. _Actually, I wouldn't mind that one bit. So it'll be Punished Snake now, huh? Too silly._

"Just one thing. If that does happen, do switch up the tapes from time to time please. Not listening to 'Maneater' again and again though it's not so bad."

 _Complainer. So what if I play songs three times in a row? It helps me appreciate the lyrics a whole lot better._

This time, he did not say anything, apparently occupied with checking the progress of the various base facilities. The sniper snorted. She was not about to let him slip easily just yet. After a few moments, she gestured towards the Intel team member they extracted.

 _So is he gonna be fine?_

Snake replied, "Him? He'll be alright. Doesn't look like they gave him a hard time. Either that, or we waltzed in before they got to work."

Casually, she pecked his cheek. _Lucky you acted quickly, then._

Ignoring the gesture, Snake turned to face her, "What about you? You okay?"

Before she could nod, he already noticed the small trickle of blood on her right shoulder from the corner of his one good eye. A bullet graze. The kind of minor wound that a soldier could miss if it weren't for a self-examination or a buddy pointing it out. Funny what the body could sometimes forget to tell you.

"That needs to be cleaned," Snake released her hand, tucked away his iDroid and grabbed the nearby medical kit. Puzzled, Quiet looked at her shoulder and was genuinely surprised. She did not even feel the sting until now. It must have been that sniper she took out. Definitely used a suppressor. And I thought I fired first. Dart must've put him to sleep right after he got a shot off.

Before she knew it, her commanding officer was kneeling in front of her and started applying disinfectant on the wound. It twinged a little, but she let none of it show on her face.

As he worked, Snake quipped, "What did I say before the mission? The parameter that specifically had something to do with you?" His voice was calm, yet firm.

 _To look out for myself. I'm sorry I let this happen. I was concentrating on covering you._

Snake started bandaging the graze, "A little more to the right and I'd be patching up a bigger mess right now, but no point dwelling on what-ifs. That's the second order to fly out the window today. What matters is that this is clear between us. Next time, no covering fire until I give the signal, alright?"

 _Oh, so you noticed that. Could've sworn you would have missed that being dark and all._

"Quiet, don't take me for an idiot. Did you really think I thought those soldiers decided to take a nap where they were standing just a few minutes ago?"

She gave him a pleading look. _I just wanted to cover your exfiltration, that's all. You got too uncomfortably close to some guards. That's my job after all, right?_

"I know you had my back out there, and I appreciate that. But the thing is, you're gonna have to trust me even if your instincts scream at you to pull the trigger. The guards wouldn't have seen me even if I were lugging someone around."

She finally looked away, then snorted, not unlike a princess dismissing a peasant who brought rotten grain before her. _Cocky son of a gun. Fine then, have it your way. Finger off trigger until they start shooting at your ass. On second thought, let's try something new for a change. So you have nothing to get riled up about, I'll leave my rifles in the chopper during missions. I'll leave everything to you Mr.-WHA!_

She winced slightly at the cold water that doused her arm, and he muttered an apology. "Oh, sorry about that. Didn't mean to startle you. Got this canteen fresh from the cooler. Code Talker said that the better rehydrated your parasites are, the faster you heal."

She gave him a small smile. _It's okay. Haven't had a drink for quite a while now anyway. It's just that it's kinda chilly tonight._

Grabbing a spare shirt, Snake said, "Don't have a towel with me right now, so this'll have to do," He gently dabbed at the excess water on her arm, slightly soaking the shirt.

"There. All patched up. Now the old man didn't say anything about sleep, but I reckon you could use a better bed than your usual one," Snake said referring to her usual spot in the ACC.

She shrugged. _It's a bit stiff at times, but can't complain. Never really had trouble falling asleep there._

"Gonna set up our usual field mattress on the floor, okay? That's yours for the night. Should give you more room and comfort. Still got a couple of hours ahead of us."

As he turned to access the folded mattress tucked behind the copilot seat, she held his shoulder. Now having his full attention, she shook her head, casting him a worried look.

 _Snake, you don't have to. You've done a lot already and I'll be fine. You should get some rest-_

Cutting off her thoughts, he kissed her forehead. He could do that because they were friends, right?

"It'll take me what, two minutes tops? Don't worry. When I'm done, I'll be fast asleep on my seat and I'll be out of your hair. Sound good?"

 _Alright, Boss. Thank you._

True enough, he quickly set up the compact olive drab mattress, positioning a clean change of folded fatigues as improvised pillows. Taking his seat, he smiled at her and gave her a nod. _C'mon, time to sleep. Just hope our man right there doesn't turn and fall on you._

She chuckled, seemingly reading his thoughts. As she rose from Snake's spot, she tugged at his arm, pulling him closer.

"What? Are you cold? Can I get you a Diamond Dog jacket?"

She smiled at that. _So we're a clothing brand now? Well, it's sort of that. Could you..._

"You're cold and you want me to stay beside you?"

Hesitantly, a nod.

"Always get what you want, huh? Alright. Just give me a minute. Sneaking suits aren't exactly built for napping. Always preferred uniforms."

 _Can only imagine. I actually miss wearing uniforms. Used to stuff every pocket I had with all sorts of crap._

Snake started unfastening the clasps on his suit, revealing the olive drab compression shirt underneath, "What about you? Slept soundly on the field with all your gear strapped on?"

She shook her head. _Must've done it countless times, but I never really got used to it. My exhausted muscles always yearned for home, for that cozy, single bed I shared with my younger sister. If only I could tell you all of this, Snake. If only that bastard didn't turn me into the absence of words. Perhaps... Perhaps I'll put all of this into writing for you someday, but I need time to think about it._

He took off his sneaking suit pants and boots, trading them for a fresh pair of olive drab pants stored under his seat, "All those magazines and other gizmos poking at the worst spots, huh? Same here. Makes me miss the good old days at times. Back then, I had to rely on on-site procurement. Fewer gear also meant having fewer crap to lug around." Snake said, oblivious to her ruminating.

 _Well, you could still do that on relatively less difficult missions. You have me to cover-_

She was surprised to find the Boss untying her boots, "On the field, sure, you can doze with your boots on in case something goes bump in the night. But right now, give your feet a rest. Had my fair share of blisters in the past from not changing socks often enough. Hated those damn things."

 _You've done so much already, Boss. I'm starting to wonder if there's anything you wouldn't do for me._

"Allow you to sacrifice your life for me on the field." Snake said after a moment, already removing her second boot.

Thinking nothing else could surprise her that night, she was terribly wrong. Quiet swore Venom Snake would give Psycho Mantis a run for his money. "Hmm?" giving him her rare interjections.

"That is the one thing I cannot do for you. No matter how hellish things get or even if we get separated, I'll get us home. Every time. You have my word on that."

 _I love you, Snake._

He cupped her cheek with his good hand and gave her a tired smile. He let her remove the rest of her gear and proceeded to his side of the mattress, facing away from her side. Apparently, Pequod was unobtrusively took note of this, as the lights dimmed significantly.

It did not take too long before a slender arm snaked around his torso and her warmth radiated on his back. Maybe setting up the mattress was not such a bad idea after all.

"Mmm, go to sleep already," muttered Snake.

 _But I want to freeze this moment. You remind me of that hugging pillow I used to have at home, before my home was taken away from me and I lost everything._

"Ever have nightmares?"

He felt her slight nod on his shoulder. _Yes. Sometimes about my past, and sometimes about what I'm afraid of in the future. There were times when I was paralyzed, and there were times when I had to leave you so that you may live. I really don't want to think about them right now._ She unconsciously embraced him tighter.

He found her hand in the darkness, and clasped hers in his, much to her delight. "Every soldier has 'em. Makes you look forward to waking up, right? Get some sleep, Quiet. I've got your back this time." With that, Snake dozed off.

 _Actually, I've got yours._ She burrowed her head into his back, looking for that good spot.

Their pilot's music was barely perceptible with its low volume, but her enhanced hearing could still make it out. It was one of her favorites, and it never failed to put her to sleep in the bygone days of her childhood.

 _-Caught in a trap_

 _I can't walk out_

 _Because I love you too much, baby._

 _Why can't you see-_

This time though, it was not the song that blissfully lulled her to sleep.


	6. That Which Remains Unsaid

6: That Which Remains Unsaid

She awoke to the faint scent of sweat and wormwood, undoubtedly picked up by her enhanced sense of smell. Arm still snugly wrapped and fingers interlaced, both of them stayed that way, clearly too tired to toss and turn. Not wishing to disturb her partner-err, Boss?-she slowly raised her head and glanced at the windows. Judging from the sun's position, it must have been 08:00, 09:00 hours? Not that it mattered. They still had time.

In another fit of audacity, she craned over and planted a peck on his cheek. Nothing. She kissed him a second time, and she finally elicited a response. He tugged at her hand.

"Means 'morning' huh? Morning, Quiet," Snake muttered, still half-asleep.

 _Good morning. Had a peaceful, dreamless sleep last night. I think I could get used to that._

"Hope you slept okay," Snake sat up and turned to face her, "Reckon we've got a couple more minutes. Let's not wake our man yet."

She warmed to the notion, and placed an arm around his shoulder. _Won't hear me complaining. Well, literally I guess. Hope you slept well too._

"Haven't had excellent sleep like that for a long while. Huh, spent so much time together, you covering my back feels more and more natural. Can even do it in your sleep."

 _You've got my back too. Don't know how you do it, considering how you always have your hands full in the field already._

"Course, I've got your six too. Not about to let some bastard get to my sniper. Who else would jump into chlorine tanks and give me mild strokes?"

She playfully punched his arm at that. _Snake, we already talked about that. Yet here you are, acting like a cranky old geezer again. Take it easy, grandpa._

"Eh! That wasn't necessary, Quiet."

He was rewarded with a questioning look, "Mmhmm."

"Really hope you could talk more, just so I could find out what lies behind those dangerous, green gems. Well anyways, gonna get some coffee from our cooler. Can I get you some water? Not sure if your parasites would appreciate getting caffeinated." Snake got up and sat on his usual place.

 _Can't say for sure, haven't tried it yet. Same goes for vodka. I think everyone on Mother Base would be safer if The One That Covers remains sober. I'll drink up later, after I tuck away our mattress._

She started to neatly fold the beddings when Snake spoke, careful not to wake the Intel Team member or DD by the copilot seat, "Quiet, just leave that there. I'll fix that after my drink."

Without stopping, she frowned at him. _Nope, not bossing me around on this one. I'll tuck it away. You already took the trouble to set this up for me last night. Just stay there._

"Right, always get what you want and do as you will. Why did I even... Fine."

He heard her grunt in satisfaction as he pulled out his iDroid with his good hand, coffee canteen in the other. He checked his recent development orders. So far so good. One was already complete and the other is in the research phase. Judging from the images, the Base Development team sure did a good job on his personal request. As for the second one, he had this unshakeable faith in the R&D Team, home of the guys who could practically design and produce anything. He knew it would not be an easy project for them, but with Mother Base having a deeper understanding of the One That Covers, they had a shot at pulling it off.

Only question now if she will like them.

Speaking of the butterfly, she came into his view and cocked her head to the side.

"Hmm? What is it? Need to catch some sun?"

She nodded. _Mmm, yes. I can drink water later. Wouldn't want to soak your-I mean-Pequod's cabin._

"Alright. We'll be home in a few anyway. Since our man didn't see you when he came in, you're gonna have to cloak. Open door might wake him."

 _Okay, I'll be hanging by the-_

"And no, you're not hanging anywhere. Two things down there that could kill you: salt and a whole lot of water. You're staying at my usual spot, with the safety belt on. Deal?"

She snorted before cloaking. _Control freak, reading my mind again. Fine, Snake._

He busied himself with his iDroid again and heard the door slide open mere moments later. True enough, Snake's safety belt mysteriously came to life and seemingly locked itself on its own accord, as if it wound around an invisible waist. Probably because it did. A rather slender waist that most beauty queens would envy.

"Wha-What was that? Oh, Boss. Good morning," the intel team member jolted awake as soon as the door opened.

"Morning. Outer Heaven's just a couple of minutes away now. Figured I'd let some sun in. Chilled coffee?"

"Ah, why not. Can do without water but no morning would be complete without this. Thank you, Boss," Snake passed the second chilled coffee canteen to his man. The latter took it eagerly and gulped down.

"Enjoy it while you can. There's Mother Base, I'd say about five miles away," said Snake as he rose from his seat and sat beside the invisible sniper, slightly alarming the latter. He bladed his body as the doorway was not terribly wide.

She let out an audible gasp and placed an invisible arm on his chest. _If you slip, you better swim all the way to Mother Base, idiot. Telling me to put the belt on and all yet here you are._

He felt her pinch his arm, and he grinned at that, "I don't think I've told you before. I'm a man of simple pleasures, and watching the sky's one of them. Damn shame I missed the sunrise today. 'Sides, don't think you'll push me off anyway."

"Hmph." _Don't be so sure. Just wait until we're close enough to Mother Base, and then-_

He found her free ungloved hand and rested it on his knee, placing his own good hand on hers.

"There. Happy? If Pequod rocks the boat, I'll just hang on to you for dear life. Now let me enjoy the view in peace."

 _Mmm, on account that I love when you do that, I forgive your childish behavior._

He was not able to enjoy the magnificent sight of the Seychelles that much longer. Before long, the helicopter touched down on the helipad on the Medical Platform, and DD was the first to disembark, taking the door opposite the mercenary couple's.

Snake was next, helping his Intel staff member down and guiding him to the stretcher prepared by the Medical Team.

"Boss, this really necessary? I've put on some weight and they're gonna have a hard time with me. I can walk, Boss."

"Just let these guys work. You'll feel like your old self in no time. Take care of yourself." Snake quipped.

His man was soon carried off and Pequod took off, undoubtedly for his routine maintenance checks. Now, there was only her. His natural radar attuned to detecting her presence never failed him.

He walked towards the platform's orange delivery point. "You can decloak now. I do prefer seeing you."

The young sniper came into view, walking beside him. _So why are we walking to that orange thingy? Plan to get shipped to the next mission?_

Snake took out a foldable cardboard box unit, and set it up in front of her. It was designed to conceal just one operator but in a pinch, two people could cram themselves inside.

 _Ohoh no. You go right ahead. I'm not getting inside some stupid box._

"C'mon, humor me. I've got two surprises for you actually, but they're in the Command Platform."

 _Get there before you do, then. Don't keep me waiting._ She winked at him and sped towards the Command Platform.

(-)

He folded away the box as soon as he arrived and started walking to his office. He was greeted by his soldiers along the way, returning their salutes every time. Before he reached the stairs, he felt small, invisible fingers interlace with his own, sealing the deal with a firm grip.

"Careful with my trigger finger. I think one bionic hand's enough."

"Mmhmm," Snake recognized that soft voice.

All the while, she thought the surprises lied in wait in his office. Turned out, that was not the case. One of the surprises was beside it. Snake unlocked the room next to his, and Quiet decloaked as soon as they entered.

"I'm afraid it isn't much, but it's of no lesser quality compared to any of my men's quarters. Took the liberty with a couple of things however. Requested a bigger window to let more sunlight in, a bigger bed, the best shower we could afford, and some new clothes in the wardrobe over there. This room is yours, Quiet. I'm sorry that you had to stay so long in that cell. My fault I couldn't act sooner. The men were afraid of you and-"

She put a finger to his lips and embraced him with her other arm. Snake on the other hand, hesitantly found her waist and bare back. Their foreheads were practically touching, but she was careful not to bump into his shrapnel. Now, if only her thoughts could jump from her head to his.

 _I understand, Snake. Knew what I was signing up for when I turned my back on XOF and Skullface. I knew that that cell was one of the consequences of my choice, and that my silence and abilities would probably make you trust me less. No harm done, I forgive you. And thanks for the room!_

She planted her face on his shoulder and giggled. "So I take it you like the room? That's great then. You'll never go back to that cell again. I promise you that."

She cast him a mildly troubled look. _What about the men, Snake? And Miller? I just don't want you to have a mutiny on your hands._

"High time they recognize you as one of us, so don't worry. I owe you my life several thousand times over on the field. I'll make it work, Quiet. Just gotta trust me."

 _When have you ever let me down? Course I trust you._

Though both were oblivious to it, they embraced as lovers masquerading as friends. They stayed like that for a good long while, neither wishing to let go of the other. They loved each other deeply at this point, but neither of these brave soldiers found the mettle to take a leap of faith. While she was held back by the words that kill, he was held back by the legend that seemingly defined his very existence. Outer Heaven is Big Boss' lover; he does not have the time nor luxury to chase a woman who tried to kill him twice before.

Yet deep within his fragile mind, a small voice cried out. _To hell with that. You love her, Snake. What else is there to think about?_

"There's one more thing, though it ain't done yet," said Snake, breaking the comfortable silence between them.

She pulled back just enough to look him in the eye. _Yes?_

"Thought that might as well let you know already. Had some R&D guys design a special fiber that wouldn't hamper cutaneous respiration. They're still experimenting, but I'm pretty damn sure they can pull it off in the coming weeks. I do hope you'll like our finished product."

She gave him a teasing smile, fiddling with his shirt collar _. I hope I'm not distracting you, Snake. I could turn invisible in the ACC and thus not throw you off your stoic, high chair._

"Ordered it for you, Quiet. Nothing else. And I think I know what you're thinking," said Snake, giving her a small smile.

 _Actually, at this point, I don't doubt that anymore._

"I don't get distracted. And I don't stare. Not some fifteen-year old who would take advantage of your unique circumstances, okay? You're my partner, and that's that. Never thought of you as anything less."

Her expression turned serious, but the warmth of joy never left her face. Confidently this time, she kissed his forehead, taking care to avoid the horn, and embraced the man who so proudly called her his partner, his equal. Big Boss on the other hand reciprocated with a tight embrace and kissed her hair. Was he going too far? Honestly, he was starting to care less and less. Now, it only felt more possible telling her that he loved her profoundly. Reluctantly, he loosened the embrace.

"Well, I'm off. Pretty sure I've got some desk work waiting for me in my quarters. You can visit the gym or shooting range if you want. If you need anything, my room's just next to yours."

 _Everything's been perfect so far. Thanks, Snake, for everything. Later then?_

"Later then, Quiet. Gotta join the men for chow later, so I'll be in the mess hall at noon. But I'm free this evening. Would you join me for dinner at the roof deck?"

She nodded. _Why wouldn't I? Maybe I couldn't share the meal with you, but I have missed the cool, evening Seychelles breeze. I'd gladly share that moment with you._

Holding her by the shoulder, it was his turn to kiss her forehead. "You're mine this evening then, but the rest of the day's yours. See you around, then," with that, he turned and left his sniper's quarters.

Taking in all that just transpired, she sat on her new bed and introspected. _He's already done a lot for me, but the question is why? We've already been through a lot together, but part of me's still wondering if he's testing me. Does he really think I'm just putting up a farce? Truth be told, he knows very little about me-he doesn't even know my name. So why would he trust me with so much? He's either cooking something up or-_

 _No, that can't be it, silly. From what I know, the battlefield's been his whole life for quite a while now. Fighting's all he knows, not unlike me. No wonder he attained legendary status. If he fell in love, it must have been a long time ago. I can't hold on to something that may very well not be there._

 _As for me, I'll put my side down on paper for him to read one day, but not today. I'm not sure if we're ready to have that between us. Indeed, one does not rush a caterpillar to leave the cocoon as a butterfly. You'll have your butterfly, Snake. In time. Besides, I'm not going anywhere. Just out to get some sun for now._

Being at peace with her dizzying thoughts for now, the young woman got up and caught some sunlight outside.

(-)

Leaning on the railing of the Command Platform's roof deck that evening, Snake puffed on a cigar, grateful for the silence save the occasional sounds of a nearby crane. The men certainly gave him no rest earlier. In their CQC training session, Snake took on five of his best men, demonstrating to a rapt audience how to quickly incapacitate multiple combatants. After several calculated throws and strikes, all five were flat on their asses in under ten seconds. The one-on-one sparring sessions came after, giving Snake a better opportunity to hone each of his men's CQC skills. Target practice with handguns and long guns came next, then jogging for an hour with DD to keep his canine companion fit, then micromanagement back in his room, then visiting every single platform to check on progress and morale.

Though all these things brought him a sense of joy and fulfillment, he cannot help but feel relieved the day would soon come to an end. Now, there was only his packed dinner beside him, the cool evening breeze brushing against his unkempt hair-

And the bare arms that wrapped around his fatigues, embracing him from behind.

"Good thing I ordered the surveillance cameras deactivated in this area."

He could sense her hesitation as the arms started to withdraw. In one deft move, he gently found one of her hands and brought it to his lips. She was relieved he could not see her blush. And that he did not let go of her hand.

 _Snake, where the hell are you going?_ He must have mentally asked himself.

"No, not because I'm ashamed to be seen with you. I just want to have this between the two of us for now. Plain as that."

 _This? Would you care to elaborate 'this,' Snake? Curious about that myself._

"Something on my mind, but I'll tell you another time. Brought you some water. I really wish I could bring you some other food. Though I don't even know your favorites."

She shrugged. _Nothing special actually. Back during my XOF days, I just chowed down on whatever we had at the time. Fish, steak, some veggies here and there, never really gave that much thought on what I ate actually. I had revenge to thank for that back then, it blinded me to anything that veered away from the very concept of vengeance. Sometimes, I miss my Father's cooking, though I can hardly remember the tastes or what the dishes were called._

"Not much of a food connoisseur, which isn't surprising for someone who thinks of a barbecued snake as an excellent appetizer."

She giggled at that. _Well, serve me one and let me be the judge. Who knows? Maybe your taste and mine are on the same page._

"In my defense, they do taste excellently. Reckon it would make for an interesting conversation with you."

What he said last hit her hard. The feeling was something similar to jumping out of a plane at 30,000 feet without a parachute. For the past couple of months, she refused the Wolbachia treatment as part of her still wanted to fulfill her mission, despite her former commanding officer having bitten the dust for quite some time now. Was it because she proved herself as XOF's best and brightest? That every damn mission before that one in Cyprus and at the Aabe Shifap was completed flawlessly? The poison of revenge and cold professionalism took a harder toll on her soul than she thought; letting go of the last mission proved difficult, even as grew to love the very man she was tasked to eliminate. To kill Big Boss himself-nothing would make her as famous as fulfilling the contract of the century.

And there was nothing in the world that could make her do it.

 _Reckon it would make for an interesting conversation with you._

If pressed to choose between sharing a conversation with him or this brief lifetime, she would gladly go for both after seeing who he truly was and after the hells they faced together. The latter, she could not say for certain, for the battlefield held many surprises and very few in her line of work die in their own beds. But as for the latter, the Old Dine could certainly help her. If she truly outgrew her former self, what was it then that held her back from the simple treatment?

Of course, she would quickly lose excuses for not speaking, and thus be compelled to open doors to rooms she has not shared with anyone for a long time.

"But I know that you must have your reasons, and I respect that. You've earned my trust. It's just that I look forward to finally talk to you one of these days. I like hearing your voice, actually."

"Hmm?" _Now you're just pulling my leg, Snake. Next, you're gonna go on about how fascinating my humming is. And anyhow, your dinner's getting cold, Boss._

"Hear you humming that same tune for months, but it never gets old. It relaxes me actually, helps me focus better on the mission."

 _Oh really? How's that?_

"Because I know that if I screw up, I've got you to clean up my mess."

She playfully punched his shoulder. _Idiot. As much as I want to, I can't clean up your every mess so please take care of yourself._

"Well, I won't do it on purpose, you can count on that. Just don't tell anyone if I miss here or blow my cover there."

She sighed as exaggeratedly as her defunct lungs allowed. _Yup, like I could if I wanted to. Now you're just trying to piss me off._

"Okay I'll stop already. Kaz's chem burger's getting cold."

Before reaching for his food package he settled on the metal floor upon arrival, he turned around and faced her, bionic hand gently finding her waist. The moonlight provided just enough visibility for them to see each other. Doing away with her usual attire, she was rocking a sports bra with some matching cycling shorts. It did not look half bad on her.

She responded by taking his mechanized hand in hers. _Not sure if that's conduct befitting of a commanding officer, but alright. I don't really mind, except that your tin can's pretty cold to the touch. So you're having a what burger?_

"Found Kaz in the mess hall earlier, and gave me one of his burgers," he continued, setting her brown locks aside with his good hand. "Told me he cooked it himself. As the name suggests, reckon he loaded the damn thing with artificial ingredients. Anyway, let's sit down for a while."

The steel railings were cold against their backs, but neither of them minded. Naturally resting against him, she contented herself with a canteen of water as Snake devoured the prodigious burger. In all fairness, it was the best burger he tasted so far, undoubtedly owing to some not-very-organic ingredients. Still can't beat a barbecued snake cooked Green Beret style, however.

"Actually enjoying what I'm eating right now. You really can't eat normal food? Thought you'd like this one."

She shook her head and pantomimed placing a spoon in his mouth. _Then enjoy your dinner, Boss. I'm afraid extensive parasite treatment ruined any chance of a romantic dinner for me._

"That's a shame. Well, the flavors of this one are a lot more pronounced than some others I've had before. Meat's just a tad overcooked, honestly prefer medium rare. The other ingredients are okay-"

Placing a finger on his lips, she shook her head with a pout. _Maybe I can't "eat" like you do, but I still get cravings you know. The smell is mouthwatering on its own, but your tantalizing description isn't exactly helping either._

Moving her hand away, he continued, "Sorry, that wasn't my intention. Just thought you wanted to know."

 _You'd do something as mundane as describing something's taste for me?_

She leaned in even closer to plant one on his cheek. Well, thank you.

Meanwhile, he held her shoulder as if to steady her, as if ready to push her away. Snake for his part, valiantly tried to hide his emotions, well aware her enhanced vision could make out his face despite the low visibility. "Not the only souls around here."

"Mmhmm." _I know, Boss_. Reluctantly, she pulled back.

"Gotta be careful. Just imagine we're in the field and need to maintain situational awareness. Trust me, you don't wanna trigger Miller's combat alert."

She chuckled softly. _Wouldn't be able to cover you with a shitstorm of that magnitude._

"Alright? Well anyhow, Quiet. While I remember, got something for you. Actually wondering why I didn't get you this earlier."

He fished a brand new Walkman with headphones wrapped around it from one of his pockets, which considerably looked better than the dusty and scratched one she usually sees him using. It was matte black, obviously so it would not reflect light and give her position away in the battlefield. He held it out for her.

"Earlier this afternoon, I stopped by the R&D platform. Ordered one of these bad boys developed. Picked it up around two hours later. So all those songs you play on your stereo, you can now listen to them anytime. Which reminds me, I dropped off your stereo and cassette tapes in your room on the way here."

She took the Walkman. _Thanks, love. Never had one of these before. I appreciate it._

"Well go on. Give it a try. Got ASIA ready to rock for you."

 _Huh, that one? That's one of my bedtime tunes. Just. Don't mind me if I doze off._

She humored his request. Putting on the headphones and playing Only Time Will Tell, she rested on his shoulder and closed her eyes. On the other hand, Snake finished what remained of the interesting chem burger. Wiping his oily, bare hands on his pants, he felt the once innocuous weight on his shoulder getting heftier. That can't be good.

"Quiet?" he murmured.

"Mmmm," she stirred for a while, then leaned still again. Typical.

She was leaning so close that he could make out the music playing on her headphones. ASIA was already rocking the chorus.

 _-sure as the sun will cross will cross the sky_

 _This lie is over_

 _Lost, like the tears that used to tide-_

He let her stay that way for a few minutes, letting the song run its course. There was something about these wordless moments that brought him peace; like all the troubles of the world could not touch him for there she was by his side. It was a tempting thought, but one he could not afford to entertain for long. Out there are still child soldiers that need rescuing, the ones Eli did not recruit; civilian populations taken advantage of by local PFs; the shadow of Cipher looming over practically everything. Truth be told, all the Diamond Dogs achieved so far was to attack the symptoms. Walking bipedal tanks? Vocal cord parasites? Supersoldiers that could best entire regiments? Nukes? There is no guarantee that Cipher is not producing any of these threats right now. The world has seen world wars, bloody revolutions and cold wars, but it is not prepared for any of these newer threats.

Revenge is a thing of the past. Nigh is the time of vigilance.

Shaking off his trancelike state, he noticed that the music had finished, and that his partner had fallen entirely asleep. Cleaning up, he crumpled and pocketed the paper bag the burger came with-had to be a role model keeping his own base clean, right? Next, taking care not to rouse her, he removed her headphones and pocketed her Walkman for now. All set, he kneeled beside her and effortlessly lifted her up in his arms.

"Alright. Time to go to bed, soldier."

He made his way down the stairs, carefully feeling the steps as the area was not that terribly well-lit. He got indoors, walked a few more steps, then finally found her room. Pressing a button beside the door, the door slid open and he stepped inside.

He gingerly settled her on the bunk and took off her boots. That done, he placed her Walkman beside her stereo on top of the bedside drawer. Something was not quite right yet. He soundlessly walked over to the window and opened it halfway, letting some air in while the screen mesh should keep flying critters out.

Taking one last look at her for the evening, he put aside hair behind her ear and bent over to plant one on her forehead. Not wishing to disturb her any further, he withdrew.

Only to be stopped by a tender hand finding one of his.

Before him, her eyes fluttered open. _Do you really have to go now?_

He sat on her bedside and cupped her cheek. "Can't stay, Quiet. It wouldn't be appropriate. C'mon, get some rest already."

She nimbly rose and embraced him, catching the legendary mercenary by surprise. _You can trust me, Snake. The night's been perfect so far, and I don't want it to end just yet. I'm afraid that we might never have something like this again. I'm afraid of losing you, whether it's one of us falling in combat or we part ways after all this. So please stay. I don't have the strength to lose anyone else, not after I lost everyone I've ever loved._

"What's the matter?" said Snake, wiping a tear from her cheek, "Nightmare?"

He felt her nod. _About my family. We were having such a grand time and then... Everything felt so real and vivid. Like everything happened right before me._

"Was it about the past? Something about your family?"

Another nod. _Yes, no more questions please. Just stay for a while._

"Gotta be stronger than this, Quiet. It was just a dream, alright? We've all been through terrible things; the point is not to dwell on them and focus on what can be yet done for ourselves and those around us. This isn't about the past, we're fighting for the future," echoing the words he told Kazuhira Miller some time ago.

Somehow, she subsided. Okay. _Okay, I'll keep that in mind. It just feels so heavy, like some unknown phantom pain weighing me down for too long a time already._

"There's nothing I can do about your pain. But I'll be right here, all the time. As long as you still want in, never letting go of you. But on the day you want to part ways, I shan't hold you against your will."

 _I'm not leaving you, Snake. So long as I don't put you in harm's way, you have me._

"Alright, c'mon. Time for some shuteye. Bit worn down myself.

She casted a puzzled look. _So will you stay?_

"Alright, I'll stay. But I better have all my clothes on in the morning. No one's getting a good look at my chest hair tonight, for cryin' out loud."

She giggled into his shoulder. _Saw that once or twice already. Nothing new there._

"Okay, scoot on over. My turn to cover your back. Do you want to listen to music?"

 _No, you're more than enough._

She moved a little to the center, making room for Snake. Taking off his boots, he clambered on beside her and found her bare stomach, pressing closer against her to keep her warm.

"I better wake up in time for tomorrow. This is too damn comfortable," he murmured to her ear.

 _Agreed. Get used to it, burger breath._

"Mmm, your ponytail's staring me in the face," he removed her hair tie, "There. Missed this look of yours."

"Mmmmm," _It's messy and doesn't look very professional. And you only ever see it when I can't find my hair tie. Like right now, I have no idea where you placed it._

"I'll give it back tomorrow. Let's just get some sleep. Rare that we get shuteye together without fear of African wild dogs or venomous snakes nailing our hides to the wall. G'night."

Since when has she replied in words? She turned around to face him, and kissed his forehead for a long time.

"That's an unusual way of saying good night. Can't say I don't like it though," said Snake, subconsciously embracing her tighter. As sleep overtook her, he planted one on her cheek, much to her delight.

As each of them had to take shifts in vigilantly keeping watch within areas of operations, they fell asleep as they never had in the field-contented with the other's embrace.


	7. Tattered Wings and Broken Scales

7: Tattered Wings, Broken Scales

 _Present Day, 0526 hours_

As soon as the first Skull went down, a second was already on him and a third leveled its G44 a couple of meters away. Deflecting the machete murderously thrusting towards him, Venom Snake placed the second Skull between him and the active shooter, narrowly escaping the hailstorm of bullets. Employing a CQC technique, he impaled the Skull with its own weapon then made a dead sprint to the grounded chopper, spraying stun rounds on the dazed Skull all the while. He knew those rubber bullets would have little effect; he was buying himself time. Snake took a gutsy roll of the dice that a more powerful weapon awaited him in the chopper. His very life depended on that gamble.

He clambered inside the empty cabin and searched frantically, bullets slamming on the side of the chopper. By some miracle, a little bit further on just behind the the pilot's seat was an ALM light machinegun. He started making his way to it when he heard a familiar throaty snarl behind him. Snake ducked just in time, the machete missing his head by mere centimeters. With no small effort in the confined spaces of the helicopter, he disarmed the Skull and embedded its blade to its neck, nearly severing its head in the process. Palm-striking the Skull out of the cabin, he hurled a grenade to another riddling the Blackfoot with rifle fire. That should keep it busy for a while.

Snake felt small stings on his side as a handful of bullets tagged him, realizing there was another shooter behind him. Quickly taking cover, he reloaded his AM pistol and finally grabbed the LMG, chambering a fresh round. If things go even deeper south, a fully loaded sidearm should buy him some time. In his ugliest encounter with these supersoldiers so far, the words she never spoke not long ago somehow made it to his mind.

 _Come back safe. Come back to me._

For the first time in the firefight, Snake returned withering machinegun fire, visibly dealing damage to the Skull. When the bastard tried leap-frogging closer, Snake drew a bead on the Skull's head, nearly disintegrating it. That takes care of one more.

He wheeled around to check for hostiles on the other side of the chopper, smoke rising from the heated muzzle of the ALM all the while. Caught by surprise, he raised his bionic arm just in time to intercept the enemy's blade, destroying his prosthetic in the process. He managed to fire a couple of rounds point blank at the Skull's center of mass before sensing that another would appear behind him, attempting to go in for the kill. Letting go of the ALM's pistol grip, he grabbed the Skull's neck and pulled it deeper in the cabin.

A split second later, a glowing blade tip burst from the chest of the Skull Snake grappled, grazing the mercenary's abdomen. Whether the Skull that just appeared felt regret over stabbing his buddy, Snake couldn't give a damn. These bastards wiped out his men, comrades who were waiting for him.

Taking advantage of his enemies' apparent disbelief at what just happened, he pushed them away and one-handedly unloaded the ALM's box magazine at the two remaining threats. Ejected brass bounced around madly in the confined cabin and gunpowder burned his sinuses, but Snake heeded not these things. There was only the rage that compelled him to exterminate the vermin in front of him, spraying the cabin with bluish blood characteristic of the Skulls.

In a final attempt at self-preservation, the two Skulls leapt to one side of the chopper, desperately avoiding the horrifying weapon's line of sight. Practically crawling away from him, Snake was about to finish the job when he noticed that his weapon was now empty. Finding no other magazines in the cabin, he dropped the machine gun and used brute force to pull the Blackfoot's minigun in its firing position.

In all his years in the battlefield, Snake never took pleasure in killing. Nonetheless, he felt grim satisfaction as thousands of rounds tore through the armorclad, mindless, killing machines. After several more seconds of sustained fire, the Skulls were finally incapacitated, their blood-splattered forms lying still on the Afghan sands.

Not one to let his guard down, he detached his buzzing, damaged prosthetic, dropping with a thud on the metallic floor, and searched for another weapon in the cabin. Finding a Kabarga shotgun underneath one of the seats, he chamber-checked the weapon. It was not much, but it had to do. If another firefight awaited him outside, the eight round magazine was all he had. That, and the AM pistol strapped on his leg holster.

He exited the cabin and scanned the area around him. He had to ensure there was nothing else in the vicinity that could shoot the chopper down as they take off. Once he ascertained that the area was secure, the next task was by far the most difficult the day had to offer. One by one, Snake hauled his fallen soldiers in body bags, refusing to leave any of them behind to rot in war-torn Afghanistan. He found bodies spread in a relatively tight radius around the chopper, no more than eight meters. Even the pilot was killed outside of the cabin, probably in an attempt to help his comrades. They were clearly ambushed.

Some of the men died where they stood, yet some were clearly dragged beside rocks as if to be hidden away from sight. Most had sand covering almost their entire forms. Could it be the Skulls' doing? There was no other logical explanation. If Snake saw the bodies, the chances of the Skulls surprising Snake would be far slimmer.

As he searched for the six members of the squad, nearly all of them had grievous wounds that would scare the living daylights out of any fresh-faced private. One was riddled with bullets from behind; another was missing his lower jaw and had multiple stab wounds; a third one had his forehead crushed, squeezed by explosive, immense force. The others sustained equally horrifying injuries.

As Snake hauled the last body bag in the chopper, Snake felt the phantom pain weigh heavily on his spirit yet again. None of these men had to die. He could have ordered Kaz to send them back to base, asserting he had the situation under control. Or he could have ordered the crew to escort Pequod to Mother Base without delay. He would have found a way to get back home without rear echelon support. He had them wait for him, and it cost them their lives.

There was an old, military saying of unknown origin. _We dwell on the what-ifs before carrying out the mission, not after. The latter welcomes only madness._

Pushing away the near palpable atmosphere of guilt enveloping him, he slammed the Blackfoot's doors shut and made his way to the pilot's seat. The cabin was already saturated with the smell of blood, corpses and lingering gunpowder. The chassis was worse for wear, but it was still serviceable. Firing up its engines, the chopper began its ascent and Snake set a course for home.

"Bo-boss..."

The moment he heard that barely audible voice, his feeling could be likened to taking the full force of 60,000 volts. Engaging the auto-pilot program, he rose from his seat and knelt beside the lone survivor's side, deftly tearing the soldier's body bag. It was the sniper that shot Quiet, Charging Rhino.

"One moment we were talkin,' then... one of the guys..."

"Save it for later, soldier," Snake quipped as he attended to the man's injuries, "That can wait. Relax, and focus your mind on surviving. Still got a long flight ahead of us."

"I'm sorry I... I let you down, Boss. I failed them. Failed to get the men home. I'm sorry... 'bout Quiet."

"She's a tough nut to crack, so don't think about it. We've got one hell of a medical team too, so don't you die on me."

Too tired to respond, the Diamond Dog nodded almost imperceptibly. His life was still in danger, but Snake managed to stabilize his condition at the very least. He applied several drops of wound disinfectant—a product of the combined innovation of the R&D and Medical Staff—on broken tissue; extracted bullets; and meticulously bandaged everything. Hoping his man did not lose too much blood, he gave Rhino some morphine to take some of the pain away.

With that taken care off, Snake let his man rest and concentrated once more on flying the bird, not once stopping to think of checking his own wounds. He too was bleeding, but was too distracted by the thought of home, of her. Outer Heaven was still several hours away, and so was the woman he loved and held most dear.

(-)

When Code Talker heard the news in the wee hours of the morn, he wasted no time in having the Medical Team prepare a translucent tent just beside the Medical Platform's infirmary. To boost her chances of recovery, they would have to attend to her injuries while she received the maximum amount of sunlight. The Old Dine barely knew her, but nonetheless cared deeply for this young woman who has seen more suffering than anyone deserves.

The clock was just shy of 1300 hours when Big Boss' helicopter arrived; led by Gray Chameleon, a medical team was already standing by for the past fifteen minutes. The old man waited by the translucent tent, but could see everything thanks to his parasite-enhanced vision. The chopper touched down and two men emerged—one of them he recognized as Big Boss personal pilot—lifting Quiet on a field stretcher. With practiced confidence, the medical team transferred her from the stretcher to the wheeled medical bed, then proceeded to the tent prepared for her.

Pequod had to get the Blackfoot off the helipad, but the medic that came with him tagged along with the medical team, bringing them up to speed on her condition. Chameleon took it all in with a calm air about her, and hooked up their patient to some IVs as soon as they reached the tent. For the past couple of hours, she lost a lot of blood and her heart rate was irregular. As the bandages now had to be changed, the medical team removed them one by one, filling the air with a tinge of pus. Despite her parasite treatment, much of her biology and physiology remained virtually the same, and Chameleon was mostly grateful for that. That meant she could still use most of her medical knowledge to save this life. Turns out, save for her superhuman abilities, the One That Covers did more of restoration than modification when she was burned half to hell by Ishmael.

For the next hour and a half, Code Talker assisted the medical team in operating on the vanguard sniper. They cleaned her wounds; extracted more foreign objects that escaped Pequod and the medic; applied modified disinfectant and creams approved by the Old Dine; stitched the more gaping holes; then applied a new set of bandages. While her condition was practically stable, she did not stir even once during he entire operation. That was what worried Chameleon. She was not completely out of the hot zone still, yet the medical team had already done everything they could.

"I cannot speak with absolute certainty," said the Old Dine after the operation, "for I have yet to conduct extensive research on the parasites' regenerative capabilities. Rest assured, they will repair the host's damaged tissue... to a certain extent."

Talking with the old geezer outside Quiet's tent, Chameleon bit her lip, "You'll have to forgive my candor, but that's really helpful. Does her condition fall within that mysterious extent? C'mon, you're the one who cultured and developed the shit out of these things. So what should the Boss expect?" Her voice was steadily rising.

"Hey, we're all worried about her, but you're not talking to one of your subordinates here. A little show of respect," Pequod cut in, paper bag with the Diamond Dogs logo in tow.

"Her words are fair and not incorrect," said Code Talker, addressing the pilot, "But the truth is I do not know. The most honest conclusion I can offer you is that the One That Covers is working to save her life. You, Chameleon, can attest to this of all people."

"What's this got to do with me, old man? I'm just a medic who'll do whatever the hell she can to keep folks breathin.' Not some fancy parasitologist."

"You are a physician, and you of all people know that those wounds would have killed anyone else who took them in her stead."

Chameleon was silent for a moment. Despite her many years attending to hundreds of soldiers on dozens of fronts, Quiet's injuries genuinely scared her upon examination. Her seasoned, medical mind told her that even the toughest men would have died from blood loss if they took even half of her injuries.

Sensing the conflicting emotions brewing within her, Pequod quipped, "Chameleon, what about some chow? Got some barbecued chicken from the Mess Hall. Still hot." The pilot outstretched the paper bag to her.

Taking the opportunity to excuse herself, she replied, "Thanks, though you didn't have to do that. I'll see you boys later then." With that, the Chief Medical Officer brusquely took her leave.

Approaching Code Talker, the pilot began, "Don't take it personally. She's got this sore head during and after working. She patched me up once when I hurt my arm in a CQC session. Asked me to 'Stay still, hotshot! You should stick to flying.' Huh, I'll never forget that day."

"Again, she makes an excellent point, I must say. What use does a pilot have for hand-to-hand combat training?"

"It was actually the Boss who encouraged me one time. Damn, hope to hell he's alright. Along with maintaining my marksmanship skills, never know when it might be useful in the field. Chopper could get shot down, and hostiles could surround us. If that happened, wouldn't want the Boss to fend them all off on his own, would we?"

"A prudent decision then. Until you hurt yourself and incited the Chameleon's wrath."

"Some of the guys say she's probably had a nasty experience, all those years patching torn-up sons of guns. Maybe, maybe not. I daresay it's because she starves herself. Give an angry chameleon some chow and she'll turn into a kitten. Saw what happened earlier?"

"Or perhaps she merely wanted to excuse herself."

"Mm, what the heck. Visit her later and ask her myself. But it seems I meandered too far from our airspace. How is our patient?"

"I'm afraid I spoke true when your friend was still here. I have told you all I know, young man."

"So when the Boss comes back, and he'll be back without a doubt, what do we tell him then? He's a tough man, but I don't think even the Legend can stand the thought of losing her."

"I was about to answer that had you not interrupted your friend," said the Elder with a sad smile, "There is nothing to tell, but the truth. Anything less is an injustice; anything more is pretension, and anything other than it is better left unsaid. She may wake up as he arrives, or perhaps days from now, or we might lose her this evening. Especially when it comes to the woman he loves, we must not 'sugarcoat' anything. He must be prepared for the different outcomes."

Despite the direness of their predicament, Pequod could not help but smile, "It seems we have love guru in our midst, huh?"

"I am but a fancy parasitologist as your friend mentioned. Nonetheless, it is clear that he cares much for her. I believe he sees far more in her than a mere tactical asset. I often see them together when I take strolls in your sprawling base."

"I suppose it's true. I've flown them to every single one of their missions, and I haven't seen closer, more efficient partners in my entire career despite the language barrier. He needs her, Elder. That's why we can't afford to lose her. Throw in some forgiveness after someone tries to kill you twice, genuine trust, a true cause for fighting, and something to live for other than blaming yourself for a tragedy nine years ago—and you've got two people interdependent on one another. It's juvenile thought, but I wonder if he'd date her under more, well, normal circumstances."

"Ask him yourself, young man. It seems your commander has arrived."

(-)

In stark contrast to Pequod's landing hours ago, the second Blackfoot touched down rambunctiously, and has undoubtedly seen more action in the past 24 hours. Its chassis marred by numerous bullet holes, the sliding door opened to reveal an even more disturbing sight. As Revolver Ocelot approached the chopper with a medical team on standby, the smell of dried blood and decomposing corpses emanated from the body bags on the cabin floor.

Taking care not to trod on his fallen soldiers, the Boss came into view soon enough and disembarked, leaning on the chopper's damaged frame. Having known John for a long time—even before Naked Snake bore the title of Big Boss—Ocelot never saw Snake in worse shape. The first thing he noticed was the missing prosthetic arm; from there, all the other small details came flooding in. Battle dress ceramic plates almost completely gone, the sneaking suit underneath was considerably shredded in several areas. There were bullet holes on his left shoulder and a cut traced along the side of his neck, sitting uncomfortably close to his jugular. The holes in his lower abdomen looked like exit wounds. The only way Snake was still standing was that none of those bullets hit an organ or vital blood vessel.

Before the medical team could get to him, he dismissed them with a wave of his hand. His voice was worn down, but nonetheless retained its command presence, "Got a lone survivor here, see to his wounds first," he turned to address his Chief Intelligence Officer, walking with a limp, "We were ambushed by the Skulls. Only Rhino made it out alive. How is she?"

The cowboy walked beside him, "She's fine, but that can wait. _You_ won't do her any good by not having yourself looked at."

"Boss!" one of the medical staff cried out behind the two men.

Snake turned and saw the deadpan look of the medic, "Boss... none of the men made it."

The Boss could only stare with incredulity, "What do you mean? I was talking with Rhino just a couple of minutes ago. I patched him up. His condition was stable."

"Boss, Charging Rhino's been dead for hours. Those bandages seem to have been applied post-mortem. Sir, we need to escort you to the infirmary. We can help you."

Something was seriously wrong here.

"What the hell are you getting at, soldier? I saved one life, and he was gonna make it. Now you're telling me he's dead?" There was no thunder in Snake's voice; only the low, dangerous voice of a man clutching at the last vestiges of sanity.

Had Ocelot not intervened, the medic would have been safer jumping off the helipad and taking a swim in the far calmer Seychelles waters, "Snake! Listen to me! The past 24 hours are getting to your head. Pull your shit together, Snake. We'll take care of the fallen. In the meantime, YOU need some serious medical attention."

Snake paused for a moment, collecting his wits as if they slipped from his grasp and dropped to the floor. Instead of helping himself to the medical bed, he ordered the medical team to collect the dead and have them cremated later. The Boss then started walking to one of the parked jeeps in the Medical Platform, forcing a firmer gait in his step. The cowboy was not about to let him off the hook that easily.

"And just where the hell do you think you're—"

"She hasn't woken up, has she?"

"No, she hasn't. And because the truth's the last thing I'd protect you from, we have no idea when or even if she will. She a tough one, but she took a lot of punishment. Not even Code Talker's been clear on when she might come to."

"I'll go have a chat with the old man later. For now, I'm off to see Kaz," said Snake, getting inside the jeep and switching on the engine.

"And you absolutely have to do that first before getting patched up and bleeding all over one of our vehicles?"

"Yes Ocelot, and he needs to see this. I have the situation under control. I'll drop by the infirmary later, you can count on that."

Not awaiting his trusted officer's response, Venom Snake sped to the Command Platform.

(-)

"Sir, you're gonna want to see this. It's about Quiet."

At 2009 hours later that same day, Code Talker made some changes to his evening rituals. As a creature of habit, he saw no need to change his daily routine unless it was absolutely necessary. Instead of poring over existing research on the vocal cord parasites and devising methods of neutralizing them in case Cipher even tried anything remotely stupid, he turned his attention to the One That Covers when dusk came. Specifically, how efficiently they repaired broken tissue and other vital organs in the human body.

He just finished a chem burger when one of the medical staff entered his lab. It seems they had new developments regarding the patient entrusted to his care. Whether promising or distressing, the staff member left that for Code Talker to decide. According to the nurse on duty, she fidgeted restlessly just a few minutes ago, as if breaking free from non-existent restraints.

Giving the old man some privacy, the staff member stayed outside as Code Talker entered the enclosure. Several dressings and bandages now concealed her horrific wounds; Code Talker knew that the road to recovery—if there will be one at all—would be long and strenuous.

As he halted by her bedside, the Old Dine was genuinely surprised when she spoke in Navajo, having heard her utter the language only once before. Her voice was still weak, but he sensed that familiar iron will of hers.

"Greetings... Elder. It is good to... see you again."

"And it brings me much joy to see you awake. How are you, child?"

"There's still pain, but I can... take it. For the nth time, I felt so close to dying. Precious memories flashed in my mind as dreams. Snake! I must see him, Elder. Tell me... he is alright. Please let him be." If only she had the strength, she would have sat up from the bed.

"Rest easy, and do not fret. Your Snake is here, but I'm afraid you cannot converse with him just yet."

"Why? Has... something ill befallen him?" Panic was gradually growing more evident in her soft-spoken voice.

"An R&D staff member stopped by his room in the Command Platform, bringing your Snake's replacement bionic arm. That was when we found him bleeding and unconscious, apparently after trying to mend his injuries himself. He was rushed to the intensive care unit afterwards. Although some Intel staff members are investigating if there was any foul play involved."

"Such an idiot! Why would he do that when... he owns an entire platform fully staffed by medics and army surgeons?"

"Well, I cannot explain your 'idiotic' commander's decision. Nor could we ask him about it; he has not woken up yet."

"What... what do you mean?"

"We found him unconscious at around 17:00 hours. Right now, his condition is stable, but doctors have not been able to rouse him. You need to be strong, child. Believe me when I say he needs you."

She was silent for a moment. _He's still an idiot, but so was I when I dragged him to Lamar Khaate. I need him so much more. Don't you dare bail out on me, Snake._

"It would do you good to rest," said Code Talker, interrupting her train of thoughts, "We can talk again in the morning. Is there anything else I can do for you, child?"

She paused, carefully weighing her decision, "Yes... as a matter of fact, there is. But no one must know of it yet."

(-)

 _Five hours ago_

Parking beside one of the Command Platform's jeeps, Snake got out of the jeep with some effort and limped his way to Miller's office. As always, he returned the salutes, though his shoulder screamed in protest whenever he moved his good arm. Most of the men expressed concern over Snake's wounds, unaccustomed to seeing their commander rather heavily injured. He casually waved them all off, saying it's all part of the job.

The Diamond Dogs' commander entered one of the buildings and made his way to the spacious office he visited quite rarely. Despite the toxic mixture of rage and contempt brewing inside him, he couldn't help but feel grateful that Kaz's office was on the ground floor. He opened the sliding door, finding his XO poring over paperwork on his sprawling desk.

Looking up from his work, Kaz began, "Snake? You should be in sickbay. What the hell happened over—"

Snake did not let his old friend finish. With one arm, he grabbed a fistful of Kaz's coat and lifted him across the table, bringing the other man to eye level. Not even the aviator glasses, which contributed so much to Kaz's theatricality and enigma, could conceal the fear and puzzlement in his eyes.

"You sent our boys out to kill her. Why? Give it to me straight. Now." Snake's voice was level and calculated, which disturbed Kaz even more.

"Snake, what are you saying? I gave no such order. Boss, those Dogs must have had a personal score to settle with Quiet," In Kaz's mind, he was not technically lying. He gave no official order at the very least. Eliminating the English strain and its sole host was an off-the-record op.

"Snarling Hyena, Charging Rhino, Tree Snake, Swinging Monkey, Red Wasp and Silent Toad. Sound familiar? Those were the nom de guerres of all the men we lost today. One more would've died had I not sent the medic to attend to Quiet's gunshot wound. They were ambushed by the Skulls, Kaz. After all that's happened today, you still have the damn audacity to lie?" Snake let go of his friend, causing the other man to collapse on the table like a sack of bricks.

"All that's happened today, Boss? Well, you've got her to thank for that! Who the fuck had the bright idea to ride one of our choppers to Afghanistan and get captured by enemy forces? Who was it, Snake?"

"You're not slipping away from this one, you son of a bitch. We all know that's her own damn fault, but that's not the point. You almost had one of our own killed, letting someone else do your dirty work and have him live with that on his conscience."

"It was a standard wetwork op, Boss. And in light of recent discoveries, one we should have done a long time ago. The world has English speakers numbering in the millions. If she even breathed a word of English, are we just gonna go out there, broadcast on all frequencies, and tell every English speaker to shut up? That it, Snake? That's your plan B in case your 'Quiet' acts up? You told me, Boss: when the time comes, you'd be the one to pull the trigger. Where'd your legendary balls go, Boss?"

"They're right here Kaz, which is more than I can say for you. Now, listen very carefully. Old friend, I find you guilty on two counts: ordering a mission without my approval and thus disrespecting the chain of command, leading to the operators' deaths; issuing a kill order on one of our own, a serious offense in itself. You've put me in a very difficult position, Kaz."

"So what's it gonna be, Snake? If you're torn between a firing squad or sending me after that dog Emmerich, just give me your .44 caliber. I'll do it myself, with dignity."

"No Kaz, there's a reason tranqs and Fulton balloons have become standard equipment even in our 'wetwork ops.' Well, at least the ones you deign to send to me for approval. No one else dies today."

"So it'll be the Seychelles for me then, casting me out like that self-righteous bastard."

"You're relieved of your duties for a month's time. No one is to take orders from you, and you'll stay confined to your quarters, office, cell, whatever the hell you like to call it. That'll give us both time to think."

"This? After all I've done for the Diamond Dogs? Gotta tell you, Boss. You're a naive, delusional ingrate! I already had a hand in building Outer Heaven from nothing while you were taking a nine-year nap. Everything I've done, every calculated move, was one more brick to the grand edifice that is our vision—Outer Heaven. And as for her? You should have finished her off when you had the chance, Snake! Your 'tactical asset' could be Cipher's inside man, and you'd never even know about it."

"She's one of us, Kaz, and she's proven herself several times. She's had plenty of chances, but I'm still here. Outer Heaven's still growing. If she had any hidden agenda, she wouldn't have waited until we became the top PF."

"And her actions yesterday that almost got you killed? Gonna try to justify that too?"

"Her 'actions' were meant to prevent more deaths. After that second outbreak, she didn't want to run the risk of a third one, that's why she left, Kaz. That theory of yours about her infecting the whole damn planet? Bullshit. If she didn't speak a word of it here, she would have done the same out there. No one could have foreseen an armored regiment would come after us. But if I had to do it all over again, I'd do it in a heartbeat, Kaz. Try filling your mind with something other than vengeance, sometime." Having said that, Snake started walking away.

"And try filling yours with something other than sentiment from that broad! You're making a huge mistake, Boss!"

Standing by the doorway, Snake turned his head, "I hope I'm not making one by giving you another shot. Don't disappoint me any further, Kaz. I'll see you in a month's time."

"I'll see you in hell, Snake."

"Well, with that limp of yours, don't keep me waiting," said Snake, closing and locking the door behind him.

Though his room was only two floors up, walking just a few steps felt more herculean than ever. Ignoring Miller's bawling in his office, Snake already sent his new orders via his barely working iDroid. Two trustworthy Diamond Dogs were responsible for Miller in the one-month incarceration, providing food but mostly ascertaining that the former XO did not try anything bold. Only Venom Snake and the two men personally appointed by him had the authorization to unlock Miller's door from the outside.

After just two flights of stairs, Snake already felt winded as he made his way to his room. Whether it was pride or cool confidence in his own doctoring skills, Snake intended to patch up his own hide. He entered his room, leaving a bloody handprint on the door—so much for no traces—and reached for the medical kit in his bedside drawer.

Sitting against one of the walls, he started ripping open the battledress' sneaking suit layer like a prawn shell. Several times he winced in pain as dried blood stuck with the aramid suit, reopening some wounds. Fresh blood started dripping on the floor. Damn.

Tossing aside the sneaking suit top, he began with his lower abdomen's injuries, where one of the Skulls tagged him from behind. The G44's 5.56x46mm NATO rounds made clean holes; he was grateful he only had to worry about cleaning and bandaging those wounds. At this point, he was already starting to feel lightheaded, but he had to focus on the task at hand. He still had to speak with Code Talker then after, Quiet. Perhaps not speak, but the legendary mercenary had to be near her. He needed some visual and tactile confirmation that she was indeed in no danger, that she was not about to slip from his grasp. After all that's transpired, even going as far as suspending his Mother Base XO, it can't be all for nothing.

Grabbing the wound disinfectant, he started pouring on his wounds. The last thing he needed was an infection down the road. After successfully hitting all wounds more or less, he stowed away the disinfectant canister and took ahold of some needle and thread.

Only to collapse on his side, having lost too much blood. _Crap._

The last things he remembered before blacking out were some loud knocks on his door and one of his men looking down at him.

"This... Makatang Agila... Got a medical emergency over here!"


	8. A Quiet Reunion

_Author's Note: This "fic" started as a what-if scenario that played in my head after my second or third playthrough of Mission 45. There are already a handful of brilliant, canon-compliant works out there where Venom reunites with his partner after the events of The Phantom Pain. That being said, I decided to go with an alternate reality that has not really been explored yet—I think._

 _Having secured Quiet while a sandstorm cinematically broke out around us, I asked myself, "what if we just high-tailed it out of Lamar Khaate and exfiltrated 'by land?'" If I could do that on most of the previous missions, I can sure as hell pull it off again. The next logical thing to do would be to call off Pequod (since he "can't land!" if there's mist or a sandstorm blanketing the area)._

 _The series of events that follow after is what I envision will happen had Venom decided differently. In this chapter, albeit one-sided, we get a reunion nonetheless. Without further ado, thanks for reading up until this point._

8: A Quiet Reunion

She could not sleep.

Once the old parasitologist learned of her wish and shortly took his leave afterwards, Quiet was left alone with her thoughts. Ruminating in her own world, even the female guard outside felt distant. The physical trauma she was subjected to normally would have left lingering, immense pain, even with her parasite treatment and consequent augmented pain tolerance.

Tonight, she could not dwell on the hurt when that of another kept her wide awake.

The last thing she remembered doing before losing consciousness was attending to Snake's injuries. That was when the devastating pain cut across her torso, feeling as though she would split in half.

 _Could that be why the Elder said Snake tried to patch himself up? Because he took more hits fending off an enemy attack that took me by surprise? Goodness, I hope it's nothing more than a few scratches. You were never supposed to come after me, Snake. And I never intended to unleash this terrible weapon. I just had to get away from you, fearing that by staying I put you all at great risk, especially after your losses in the second outbreak. You were to let go of me._

 _Snake, you idiot, what have you done to yourself now?_

She was naturally worried about him, about how he could very well lose his life because of her little escape. All the tantalizing questions swam in her head. How was he faring? Are we looking at another long term coma? Did his wounds cause any serious or permanent damage?

She closed her eyes, bringing her hands to her face, as if to shut away all her tribulations. She tried to sleep, yearning for the soothing nothingness brought by deep slumber. An hour passed, then two, until she finally lost track of time altogether. Although the darkness outside would still provide some cover for a casual night stroll.

She knew it could not possibly help him one bit, but she had to see him.

Making up her mind, she forced herself off her cot, swinging her legs to one side of the bed. Biting back the hellish aching, she tried standing up, only to collapse on all fours a second later. It took all her discipline not to cry out in pain. Next, she tried using her augmented mobility, hoping it would nullify her current handicap. She phased out of existence, and then reemerged a second later with an audible gasp, falling clumsily on her side. Whether her injuries prevented her from doing so or the One That Covers had its hands full regenerating broken tissue, she could not rely on the parasites right now to make those high energy jumps.

All that's left was to get to Snake the old-fashioned way.

Getting up with a massive effort, she started walking out of her tent, ducking all the while. In a stroke of luck, she knew the Medical Platform's intensive care unit was not at all that far away. A handful of times before, she accompanied Snake when the latter visited his injured soldiers and even attended to their injuries. She was cloaked the whole time of course, but he had an uncanny way of knowing that she was nearby. Even as he worked and moved from person to person, he never failed to surprise her, occasionally finding her invisible hand and squeezing. How he did it, he never told her.

After sneaking past several patrolling guards, she was finally indoors. Snake was now only a couple of meters away. She just had to find him. Though the sensation could be likened to pouring near boiling water over one's head, she cloaked whenever an attending medic came too near, biting her lip to avoid making any sound. When it was safe to roam again, she checked the cots one by one, her enhanced vision making her task a slightly easier one. All of the patients were fast asleep, and she recognized most if not all of their faces. The Boss even shared with her stories about the remarkable feats of some of these Diamond Dogs. But several minutes of searching, she was not after that right now.

She was looking for the man missing one arm, who now happened to be in front of her.

She walked over beside his good arm and lightly squeezed his forearm while placing another hand on his shoulder. _Snake, I know it would probably screw up your circadian rhythm, but please wake up. Come back to me, dammit! Please. Don't do this to me. I'm here now, and I'm not leaving you again._

A tear found itself on Snake's unmoving arm. Followed by two. Before long, a stream of remorseful tears cascaded down on the legendary mercenary, a gift from one who wept silently. Losing her hold on reason for a brief while, she rested her head on his shoulder and held him tighter, thinking that he would wake up sooner by doing so.

"Six months ago, had I found you here, I know it would've been for an entirely different reason. Better not have the same motives now."

Not many people could sneak up on her, but the enigmatic Shalashashka was one of them. Big Boss' top intel man and ruthless interrogator seemingly possessed the godly ability to control whether or not to sound those clicking, Wild West spurs. Those gracefully annoying boot wheels only now let themselves be heard.

Through bleary eyes, she saw Ocelot sit down on a nearby stool, scrutinizing her every move. That relaxed look of his did not fool her; this man is as dangerous as he is fast and accurate with those twin Tornadoes.

The cowboy barely spoke above a whisper to avoid rousing nearby souls, "You won't do either of you good by staying here, you know that. He'll wake up, sooner or later. He has to."

She looked away, unsettled at someone other than Snake seeing through her vulnerability.

"In the meantime, go back to your tent and get some rest. Let me put it this way: what would Snake want? Can't argue with that can we?"

She shook her head slowly, still avoiding eye contact. _I'm not leaving him for the night, and that is that. You're not convincing me to act otherwise._

A frown formed on Ocelot's face as he stroked his chin, but it was not one of displeasure. He was calculating her again; sizing her up; years of experience in the game of espionage crashing down on her in one tense moment. He thought, _what could she possibly stand to gain by staying here? She's unarmed, but she is a living weapon herself. Is the cold killer still there, or am I just over thinking all this? She's here all because—_

"You're in love with the man. For the Legend as we know him is bulletproof and has no use for infirmaries, let alone ICUs. Still, I'm not so sure if letting you hang around here is the best idea."

Bashfully wiping her tears away, she finally looked the interrogator in the eye, casting an almost pleading look. _I can take care of myself, and I won't bother anyone if that's what weighs heavily on your mind._

"Alright, I'll let you stay this time," the cowboy said after a while, rising from his seat, "But I can't allow you to expose yourself like this for long periods, especially during the day. Even if it's a fairly secluded spot, someone's bound to see you. Don't get me started on morale. Snake's condition is bad enough as it is."

She nodded slowly in response. _Thank you._

"Sneaking past every soul on active duty. Gotta admit, you're pretty good. Just remember to get some rest yourself, and let him be as he gets his. When I come back in the morning, I don't expect to see you here. Better turn out that way." With that, Ocelot took his leave.

Satisfied that the cowboy was finally gone, clacking spurs and all, she turned to face Snake for one last time that night. Holding his limp hand, the sniper's thoughts raced once more.

 _You better not keep me waiting this time. You didn't lose me, so don't you dare put me through the hell of losing you. It's merely an expression when other people say it; folks too lazy to count their blessings. But it's the truth in my case when I say you're all I have left. I can't lose you too, Snake._

Squeezing one last time, her lips met his forehead, and parted from him with great reluctance. At the end of the day, Ocelot was still correct.

(-)

 _Three days later, 1225 hours_

Had it not been for the splitting headache that greeted him upon waking, Snake could have sworn he was dead. Phosphenes filled his vision when he opened his one good eye, blurring the world around him. Taking him a couple of moments to adjust, short-sighted situational awareness gradually kicked in. He was dressed in a hospital gown; bionic arm was still missing; IVs were hooked to him; and The Man Who Sold The World was rocking somewhere in the background.

He laughed. _Could we just fast forward to the part where Quiet tries to kill me? Maybe I can recruit her then and there, and trust my life with a talking, nonparasite-enhanced partner? Wonder if we could have a more normal relationship that way._

"Something funny about nearly getting yourself killed? 'Patching yourself up' singlehandedly when you've got a team of highly capable staff who could do it for you?" went an oddly familiar Texan drawl.

Turning his head to the source of the sound, his vision focused on the man seated toward his left. Head craned over a small table holding papers and an iDroid, Revolver Ocelot looked none too happy with his desk job, working with as much enthusiasm as a man scraping off chipped paint.

"Huh, you're supposed to show up later," replied Snake.

"Excuse me? Something going on here I don't know about?" quipped the cowboy, looking up from his desk of paperwork and raising an eyebrow.

"You? Something happening you know nothing about? That'll be the day. Getting to the point, I thought I was back in Cyprus. Same outfit, arm's missing, even the same damn music playing."

"Ah, so that's what you meant. Well, been playing some music tapes of yours for the past three days, see if that could wake you up any faster. Even Quiet stopping by didn't seem to do the trick. That was when I got worried. If you won't wake up in the presence of your girlfriend, not sure what could snap you out of it. I was hoping we weren't looking at another nine-year coma. Some water, Boss?" said Ocelot, extending a cup of water.

"Thanks," Snake took it and gulped down the water before letting it all sink in, "Wait, hang on. Three days? And Quiet? She's up and about?"

"Perked up your ears at that, huh? That's right, you were out cold for three days. And on the record, no; she still hasn't woken up. Asked Code Talker, in Navajo mind you, not to tell anyone she was already awake. Her reasons? You're better off asking the old man yourself."

"And off the record?" questioned Snake, placing the empty paper cup on the desk to his left.

"Let's just say she snuck past every soul taking the night shift, and got all teary-eyed seeing you like that. Yup, that's pretty much what happened. Seeing her like that, you wouldn't think she was a crack shot supersoldier of a sniper. You have a, strange effect on women, Boss. First there was EVA, and now her."

"It's either charm or the beard. Either way, you'll never see me clean-shaven."

"Ha. Sure it's you, Boss? You're unusually informal today."

"I don't know. Side effects of a three-day nap? So tell me, when and how'd you spot her? And don't tell me you were waiting here the whole time."

"Course not. Happened around 0200 hours three days ago. Stayed up late reviewing some Intel files and ahem, taking over most of Miller's responsibilities..."

"Sorry. I was about to fix that when—"

"When shit happened?"

"That's one way of putting it, sure. The Mother Base XO's responsibilities will be delegated between me and you. In the meantime, start deciding who to appoint as Chief Intel Officer. Someone trustworthy. That should take some of the working load off. As for the Tactical Instructor, we have scores of capable vets out there who can teach the rookies a thing or two."

"Alright then, noted. We can talk more about that later after you dust off those cobwebs."

"Very funny. So you were saying?"

"Well, the nurse on duty at the time reported that she wasn't in her cot. From there on out, doesn't take a genius to figure out the only place she could possibly go. I let her stay, but told her she couldn't linger for extended periods of time, particularly during daytime. Whatever we do Snake, some of the men will still be jumpy around or afraid of her. Not sure if that will ever change. Rather not risk panicking the men."

"I know. So she's fine now?"

"For the most part, she's still recovering. Turns out the parasites have some remarkable regenerative properties, but that's not to say she doesn't need R & R. She does, same as you. If you want to visit her, and I know you two are dying to see each other, we transferred her to her new quarters. And, Doc says you need to rest up for two weeks at the very least, but a month would be preferable. So Snake, before you try anything stupid, just know I got my eye on you."

"I'll just slip under your nose. Good thing your nose provides plenty of cover."

"Sure you didn't hit your head when you collapsed? First time you hurt my feelings, Boss."

"Can't let a few scratches interfere with my work, Ocelot. I'll rest up, but I can't stay for long. Wouldn't be good for morale letting the men see me like this. And speaking of that, how are the men?"

"Can't complain. All base operations are still in full swing. A few fights here and there, but nothing out of the ordinary. Personally saw to it that only select people know about your little nap."

"Good, and I'll deal with the troublemakers myself. Nothing a session of CQC can't fix. The men I brought home three days ago, did you..."

"I did, and I'm sorry Boss. Miller used a secure channel to communicate with the squad."

"Nothing we could do now. Accountability falls on me; should've sent them home immediately."

His trusted officer looked him squarely in the eye, "Like hell they'd leave Big Boss behind, even if it was a direct order. Quit blamin' yourself, Snake."

"Yeah well, enough of that. I'll see you at 1700 hours then? That a good time?"

Rolling up his sleeve, Ocelot checked his not-so- _cowboyish_ digital watch, "So it's 1238 hours now. Sure thing, 1700 hours it is. If you need me before that time, I'll be in the Intel platform, making sure we don't go bankrupt. Anything else you need to know before I get lost?" The cowboy got up from his desk, neatly stacked paperwork in tow.

"Actually, there is. Who was the staff member who found me?"

"Ah. One thing I forgot to tell you. You're one lucky son of a gun. When you collapsed, Makatang Agila, real name Francisco Ramirez, was scheduled to drop off your new bionic arm at your room. It's on your right by the way, along with your new iDroid."

Snake looked to his right. There, resting on top of the bedside desk, was the matte red arm. It had a darker hue of red than his old one. The iDroid was just beside it.

"It has all the features of your old one. But, this one's more responsive, more durable and comes with four anti-materiel missiles while relatively retaining the same weight and maintenance costs. Next time you face those bastards, keep these missiles in mind."

"Maybe I should break my arm more often. So if I wreck this one, will the next bionic arm come with a nuke?"

"No, we'll give you back that damn prosthetic you had in Cyprus. These things aren't exactly cheap you know."

That cracked up the legendary mercenary, "Got me there. So my savior's got an interesting nom de guerre. Agila, huh? Tell me more about him before you go."

"Means 'eagle' in the boy's native tongue. Kid's a tech hotshot from the Philippines. Only Filipino to join our ranks, and he's already one of R&D's best and brightest. Plan to meet the youngster who saved your skin?"

"I plan to, actually. That'll be all, Ocelot. Thanks."

"No problem, Boss. Just don't forget to come see me when you're feeling better. Nothing urgent yet, but I did stumble across some interesting information in the past three days. Thought you might want to know about them. And by the way, some fresh OD fatigues are tucked inside that drawer on your right."

"Noted. Be sure to stop by later."

The cowboy nodded and started walking away, "Rest up, Snake. And try not to blow up the base with that arm. Not sure if we're cut out for a third Mother Base."

Snake shook his head at the other man's remark, taking the metallic prosthetic with his good hand. True enough, it was satisfyingly light, allowing for quick strikes, throws and weapon reloads. Upon closer inspection, the arm also boasted sturdier design and construction, complete with conspicuously studded knuckles and fewer seams. His new toy could dish out and withstand more punishment than the last one. Snake wondered if it was Spying Harrier who improved the design. Next to test was the responsiveness.

Nothing could ever take away the phantom pain of a severed limb, but this one came damn near close. Upon attaching the arm to his stump, the mechanized fingers instantly came to life, keenly responding to the electric signals conveyed by Snake's nervous system. The overhauled design also allowed for superhuman-level grip strengths and a wider range of articulation for the fingers. Nonetheless, it would take some getting used to. The last thing you want is deforming your last magazine in a gunfight.

Forcing himself off the bed, he had to grab the bedpost to steady his buckling legs. So for today's leg day, Snake intended to jog from the Medical Platform all the way to the Command Platform. _That should get me back in fighting form_ , he thought.

As the painkillers wore off, the occasional stabbing and throbbing pain shot up as Snake put on his new fatigues. Shrugging it off, he stowed the iDroid in one of his pouches, snatched a canteen of water, and set off for the Command Platform.

True to his word, on foot of course. Picking up the pace despite the pain, he hated to keep her waiting.


	9. What Lies Ahead

9: What Lies Ahead

 _I cannot lose you as well._

 _The truth is that I never wanted to leave your side. But after seeing you lose so many of your own and knowing I'm still a danger to all of you, I knew I couldn't stay. That which brings me more pain than leaving is the thought of you suffering just like your men, something that could be very well prevented._

 _At the time, I refused the Wolbachia treatment, but not for the reason you would think. I abandoned my last mission as an XOF operative long ago, finding it infinitely outweighed by the missions we fulfilled together, and even more so by my feelings for you. It is only that all this time, I could always seek refuge in the quiet. In holding my peace, I didn't have to talk about my past; your enemy's original plan of making me an ace in the hole; or even myself._

 _I did not choose to be Quiet, yet I was also not ready to break my silence. At that time at least._

 _Just a few hours ago as of this writing, the Elder finished the modified treatment—the English strain of vocal cord parasites is no more. My hesitation has already once cost us too much, and so I decided to set aside my self-serving vow of silence. I have cowered for far too long in the refuge of wordlessness. Now, you truly have all of me._

 _I shan't leave you again, and you can ask me about anything. Anything at all, so just please wake up. I can't lose you like how I once lost everything that was dear to me. You are all I have left. Come back to me._

 _I'll be waiting. Don't you dare take too long._

The letter, folded neatly in a trifold, lacked a salutation and a signature, but he did not mind that. He felt himself drowning in the elegant, cursive handwriting, reading slowly and savoring each word. Having heard her humming countless times over the past couple of months, his mind could approximate her speaking the words out loud. For Snake, it was like hearing her talk for the first time.

In lieu of a signature, there was a lovely sketch of a butterfly taking flight at the spacious bottom of the page. It seemed she was quite the artist. Snake knew very little of art as his profession had little use for the aesthetic, but he recognized this was no work of an amateur. Unlike those flat illustrations on the yellowed pages of biology textbooks, this butterfly was three-dimensional, almost as if it would fly out of the letter anytime soon. The details were lovely as well, with the distinct pattern naturally drawing the eye from the center to the tips of the wings.

Everything about the letter was perfect, and it was every bit as lovely as her.

He was genuinely surprised to find a teardrop suddenly fall on the otherwise pristine letter, taking a second to realize it came from his lone eye. The letter did its job too well, then, having tugged at heartstrings he never knew he had. He had not felt this touched in too long a time. Not wishing to ruin her gift any further, he gingerly folded the letter and replaced it on her bedside drawer.

He stood up from her bed and started pacing around her room. Where could she be at this moment, and what was taking her so long? As Snake pondered, his lone eye also scanned Quiet's room, noting with mild disappointment how not much has changed since the last time he stopped by. With the exception of a couple of gear pouches and tools on the bedside drawer and the table by the window, the room remained quite spartan, not unlike his to be fair. He had hoped she would customize and tweak the room to her liking, then it him.

This was a soldier's quarters, not some teenage girl's bedroom.

Though it may sound quite ironic with the millions of GMP and the plethora of weapons at his disposal, Snake had very few belongings he would call his own. He even considers his uniforms to be a "property of Diamond Dogs" rather than his possessions. Nevertheless, Quiet came to Mother Base with even fewer belongings than him, or even the other Fulton recruits. At the very least, the other soldiers that came had a few possessions of a non-military nature: photos of family back home, playing cards that "go way back," Walkman cassette players.

Quiet had her sniper rifle, a sidearm, and a couple of magazines for both firearms.

Snake made a mental note to do something about that. He already gave her an R&D custom Walkman, so he was off to a good start. Resting his hands on the table, his mind shifted back to the present. For someone who could wait hours in the blistering heat or slither slowly on red soil crawling with ants, Snake was getting impatient. Where on earth, or at least on Mother Base, could she possibly be?

After a few minutes, Snake would have no more it. He radioed his Chief Intelligence Officer.

"Ocelot. I'm in the Command Platform, but Quiet isn't in her room. Sure she isn't in the Medical Platform?"

The cowboy responded after a few seconds, "Positive, Boss. Hang on, I can check the surveillance footages in that area. Wouldn't do us much good if she pulled her camo stunt, though."

"Acknowledged, go for—"

The door slid open, and by God there she was.

That moment marked the first time Venom Snake ever felt frozen where he stood, struggling to take in what he saw and what he felt. There was undoubtedly the liberating relief upon seeing her well notwithstanding the bandages that remained; the immense joy brought by seeing her again; the juvenile desire to embrace her and never let go again.

The radio piece in his ear came back to life with a Texan accent, "Boss, come in. Everything okay back there?"

Before he could finish processing everything, she was already pressed against him, those slender arms clamped around his broad back. Reciprocating the embrace and running his fingers though her hair, Snake was surprised at how quickly she covered the distance between them. He hardly even noticed instinctively switching his radio off.

Finding nothing else to say, Snake spoke so only she could hear, "I love you. Profoundly. Now, c'mere."

Not trusting herself to speak just yet, she embraced him tighter, barely suppressing the sobs that so desperately wanted to get ahold of her. The wide range of emotions she felt was immensely confounding, having never before felt so much euphoria, completeness, serenity.

In their line of work, few things brought these soldiers more joy than to see their buddies alive.

Snake felt her tremble, as if she was beginning to sob, "It's okay. Got no reason to cry, alright? I'm fine."

She pulled back just enough for them to finally get a good look at each other. Her eyes still raw from the tears, she frantically searched his face, inquiring without words. _Are you, really? Is it really you? What if I'm still dreaming, and you're still asleep? Please let it be you this time, and not the phantoms._

No longer surprising her, Snake held her head and seemingly read her mind again, "It's me, Quiet. You can be sure of that. And I'm pretty sure this thing sticking out of my head isn't playing tricks with me at the moment. I know it's you too."

Effectively removing all traces of doubt and hesitation within her, he deftly moved forward and pressed his lips to hers.

The kiss they shared carried more weight than any whimsical, romantic revelation. It was a bold gesture that conveyed—above all things—warmth, security, and affection. Indeed, she felt all three unquestionably. In a matter of seconds, all her fears faded into nothingness, overshadowed by one beautiful moment she now shared with the man she loved.

She was soft—that was the first thing that registered in his rather preoccupied mind. It was electrifying and calming at the same. She reacted instantly to his every minuscule movement, their lips moving in a wordless dance of affection. They held each other, and neither wanted it to end.

Nevertheless, lest he overstepped his bounds, he was the first to break away albeit without letting go of her waist. Focusing on her face for the first time that day, he wiped away the tracks of her tears. If he failed to convince her that it really was him even after the past five minutes, Snake had no idea how else he could put her doubts to rest.

"Funny. It was you who kept me waiting this time around. Where the hell'd you run off to and what took you so long?" Snake gently inquired.

Snake knew it was already safe for her to speak, but he was nonetheless surprised and delighted at what happened next. The words that kill were truly no more, replaced by the liberating music of language.

Resting her chin on his shoulder, she _replied_ , "I... could ask you the same. I'm not the idiot who self-operated, nearly bled himself to death, and hibernated for three—"

Was she about to say _days_? He would never find out as they plunged into another deep lip lock, with Snake being a tad more aggressive this time around, leaning into her. Completely forgetting about her augmented strength, she surrendered, letting both of them explore the kiss more freely.

Despite the rising intensity of the moment, Snake broke off and still managed to say, "Still can't beat taking off and running the risk of not seeing her partner again, right? What would the _idiot_ do if anything happened to her?"

"He would continue to pursue his vision, guard the world from threats it could never hope to understand, live up to the Legend... His hands are already full without her."

"Mine would be empty if I can't hold yours, remember that. Now enough of the drama already. Just don't run off like that again. You stopped being my prisoner a long, long time ago, and I'll never hold you here against your will. If the day comes when you get tired of me or all this, I have the best darn pilot and helicopters that slip by most enemy radars. Just tell me, and I can drop you off anywhere you wish."

She pecked him before speaking, "As long as you're coming with me, I'd gladly take you up on that."

"You do know I'd lose my job if I did that, leaving Miller free to burn half the world to hell."

"Well, if the world needs saving from your own friend, you can always come out of retirement later. Provided that happens when you're not too old yet, of course."

"Had to rub that in, huh? Yeah, not getting any younger. I've come to terms with that."

Embracing their newfound intimacy, she found his ponytail and lightly tugged, "And this? Are you alright with..."

Seeing that she was groping for the elusive correct words, he did not compel her to finish, "Very much so. I meant it when I said it. I love you."

Instead of replying, she leaned closer to him, burying a portion of her face to his broad shoulder. Snake for his part reciprocated the embrace, feeling the joy and warmth emanate from her. They remained like that for a few moments before he broached another topic.

"I read the letter you left behind. I couldn't be too sure if it was for me though since you left no salutation. Could've been addressed to Miller or Pequod for all I cared, right? Still, I took my chances that you wrote me."

"Snake, you're an idiot. Like I'd write anyone else."

"Mmhmm, and the butterfly reveals her true colors. My point is that I'd never compel you to talk about things you're not ready to disclose yet. Your past, your missions, everything else, I'm okay with waiting to hear all that in your time. I trust you, and I'd never force you. But I would love to get to know you a bit more."

"Thanks, you will. I promise. And I already knew that you read my letter."

He ran his fingers through her hair and found her hair tie, removing it and letting it fall soundlessly to the floor, "Really? And how's that?"

"Because you weren't distraught when I spoke."

"I wouldn't be afraid any other way, Quiet. If listening to you speak would be last thing I ever hear, I wouldn't mind that one bit. We'd starve to death in this room though, and the entire platform would have to be evacuated and burned down the moment you speak."

"That wouldn't have happened in the first place. With you reading my mind all this time, what use have I for words? And could you please keep your hands off my hair?" She smiled as she pressed her forehead to his while mindfully avoiding the shrapnel.

"One, I'm just a damn good guesser of what you're thinking. And two, I can't comply with that, sorry. Anyways, you haven't answered me yet. Where've you been? And ahem, was the letter really addressed to me?" said Snake, running his good hand through the freely falling brown locks.

"I went to see you actually. I've been visiting you in the ICU for the past three nights, praying each time that you would finally wake up. I couldn't sleep just last night; I'll admit I was afraid that you would keep that up for a long time. And no, you weren't supposed to read that. Not yet, at least."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"What you read was just a draft. I originally planned to keep it as short as possible, but there was so much I wanted to tell you. Even then, I'm not sure if I have already said everything in that letter."

"And I don't expect you to. There'll be a time to talk about all that. I can wait, Quiet. For now though—"

He bent over and lithely scooped her legs, lifting the girl in his arms, not unlike the time he carried her off from that damned chlorine bath. She let out a small gasp, but one of concern rather than surprise.

She tugged at his shirt collar, "Your wounds have not fully recovered yet. You shouldn't be exerting yourself!"

He walked over to her bunk and settled her down, then proceeded to untie her bootlaces next, "You're light as a feather, so don't worry about it. My point is that you should get some rest. If any of my guys took hits like the ones you did, they'd be lucky to be alive. Besides, you didn't get any sleep last night, and now you're telling me not to exert myself?"

Kicking off her boots, she replied, "The One That Covers has... modified my sleeping patterns as well. I can go for days without sleep and still be in top form."

The rare sound of his laughter made her smile despite his recklessness, "One that covers my ass. Really expect me to believe that, huh? After making me your personal pillow on several occasions and dozing for hours on end? All evidence to the contrary."

She rested on an elbow, suppressing a yawn, "In all fairness, there's nothing else to do in that cramped cabin you call your aerial command center. And ten-hour trips aren't exactly brief, Snake."

He leaned closer and planted one on her forehead, "Then go right ahead with another ten-hour nap. You're on leave until your wounds heal, same protocol as any other Diamond Dog. Got it?"

Playfully grabbing a fistful of his shirt, she nonetheless cast him a serious look, "I wonder if that protocol includes the commander of this PF."

Not intending to stick around in Mother Base for long, he replied with a half-truth, "Of course. I'll be taking some R&R myself. Now get some rest. I know you were worried, but you shouldn't have wasted energy for my sake the past three days."

"It was difficult to fall asleep thinking you may never wake up again. I was already afraid by the second day."

He sat by her bedside and put his good arm around her shoulders, "A fearless sniper afraid of her partner napping for too long. First time I've heard of that."

The girl in turn rested her head on his shoulders, "Legendary soldier as you are, you would be afraid to lose everything too. I'm no different from you, Snake."

He actually took a while to process what she meant exactly. He found it oddly heartwarming to think if that was what she suggested, but did she really mean it? Or were those merely the ramblings of someone starved for sleep?

Snake began, "Do you mean to say that..."

Classic. She was soundly dozing while leaning against him once more. Snake thought, _what is it with her and shoulders? I've put countless soldiers to sleep with my bare arms, but I never thought they could work like this as well. And on no less than a supersoldier of a sniper._

He laid her down gingerly, easing her into the cot with his arms and careful not to wake her. With her back turned on the afternoon sun, she would be able to sleep soundly and get the sustenance she needed while daylight hours still remained.

He got up from her cot, and sheepishly remembered hanging up on Ocelot. Damn.

Keeping his voice down, he switched on his radio, "Ocelot. This is Snake. Had to, uh... tend to something. How's everything back there?"

His earpiece instantly came to life, "No explanation needed, Boss; you're not talking to Miller. I do, however, need to see you right away here in the Intel platform. We've got an emergency on our hands, Snake."

"Making my way there now. What's it about?"

"Our FOB in the Atlantic is under attack. Thing is, we're not talking about just another PF kidnapping staff and stealing resources. Men have been found dead where they stood. Killed by who or what, we don't know yet."

"Run me through everything we have on that incident when I arrive. Snake out."

 _Dead men under unknown circumstances in a heavily guarded and technologically advanced offshore base? What the hell was going on?_

He made his way past his partner's cot soundlessly, forgoing a farewell kiss lest he rouses her. Taking one last glimpse at Quiet's dozing form, he stepped out of her room and rushed to the nearest jeep he could find.


	10. The Immortal

10: The Immortal

 _Ten hours ago, 0314 hours_

Nightshifts were always twice as uneventful as their daytime counterparts. At least that was the view that George Winters—nom de guerre Nimble Gazelle—held since he volunteered for the Diamond Dogs two months ago. In between the combat deployments and solo infiltrations, guard duty was always a slog. At least during the day, guys came home from the field all the time, sometimes with a fresh catch of African wild pig. _Man, those things were the best_ , Winters thought as he licked his lips at the memory of yesterday's chow. Perhaps one of the biggest regrets of Winters was not running across the boars during his deployments to Africa.

After serving his fair share of tours in Iraq—Winters lost count by the time he hit 28—he decided to join the Diamond Dogs out of nothing but sheer curiosity. The young vet wanted to know if all the myths surrounding the legend was true, if this "Big Boss" truly deserved the acclaim of being the greatest soldier who ever lived. After two months in, while he was not exactly as "revering" as the other guys, he could not help but be impressed. Notwithstanding his Boss' status, the man never showed a hint of arrogance. Winters always learned something new in every CQC session, a humbling experience for someone adept in Krav Maga, Jiu Jutsu and Kickboxing. The Boss was also the best marksman that Winters encountered in his entire military career. For crying out loud, a one-eyed man was casually pulling off long-range shots Winters never thought possible before with a handgun.

Add all that to his documented mission feats over the past two decades, and you have a certified living Legend.

The occasional helo still came in during the night, but they were comparatively fewer and farther in between. As Winters grabbed the railing in front of him, he could not help but notice his interesting companions for the night. The whirring of a distant crane and some heavy machinery; the aperiodic static emitted by his radio; the intermittent cawing of a passing seagull. What's not to like, right?

He called out to no one in particular, "Give me a mission already."

"There's one behind you right now," said a baritone voice behind him.

Winters wheeled around at the sound of the unfamiliar voice, MRS-4 carbine at the ready. Instead of seeing a suspicious figure, he saw one of his comrades lying motionless in a pool of blood. Others in his place might have rushed to the wounded's side without second thought, but his training told him otherwise. Switching on his rifle's tactical light, he scanned the area around him for threats, and continued doing so as he approached his comrade's side. Winters knew the man was dead and that something was terribly wrong, but he nonetheless kneeled and checked for a pulse.

 _Shit out of luck._

 _Dammit, the kid's barely out of college_. It was one of the younger Diamond Dogs. Winters couldn't remember the kid's callsign, but he heard one of the other guys call him Jeffrey. From what he could see at the moment, the boy sustained two major wounds—a clean horizontal cut across the neck, and a spine-chilling diagonal gash that extended from the collarbone all the way to the hipbone. Fuck. Whoever the hell got him did not use your standard issue Army knife. With cuts as deep as those, the blade could not have been shorter than a foot. Either that, or the killer must have been exceptionally strong.

Reaching for his radio, he switched it on and was greeted by static. As if on cue, the entire FOB went dark, and all heavy machinery whirred more quietly until everything was silent. For the first time in those two months, the sound of the rolling Atlantic waves was not quite as soothing.

Not when it reminded you a hostile has infiltrated the base, with no way to call for backup.

He tried activating his radio again; it was a fruitless attempt. _How the hell did an intruder take out communication? How could he have taken out our electricity? How could anyone even get past the redundant security measures of the base?_ He put all the unhelpful questions on the back burner for now.

He got up, and left Jeffrey where he laid. There was nothing he could do for the kid, and he did not have anything to cover the corpse with. If he moved quickly though, he still stood a chance of catching the bastard who did all this.

But whose voice did he hear earlier? You don't just happen to hear voices at zero dark thirty.

Holding his rifle at the low ready position, he started his rounds. The four-unit Command Platform was sprawling compared to the other substituent platforms, making a one-man search painstakingly slow. Not that Winters had anything better to do at the moment. As soon as he found the threat, he had the rest of his life to get a sight picture, and pull the trigger. Right now, he was looking for other Diamond Dogs, anyone who could help him fix this clusterfuck which happened so terribly fast.

He pied corners, moving from cover to cover. He switched his light on every now and then, using it sparingly. He swore at himself for leaving his night vision goggles in his quarters. The thing about tactical lights was that they had this propensity to light you up like a Christmas tree, particularly the ones with more lumens. Every time he illuminated the area in front of him, he half-expected a hail of bullets to come his way.

After an hour of searching—and that was just for the main unit of the Command Platform—Winters found someone. He found another Diamond Dog on one of the upper levels. It was only that he too was very dead, having sustained the same injuries as Jeffrey. Making up his mind, he took the fallen Dog's spare magazines and nods.

Doing his best to remain calm, he pulled out his binoculars and scanned the other platforms, looking beyond the Command Platform for the first time that day. From what he could survey, the other platforms were in full swing. The lights were still on, and heavy machinery was still operational. As far as Winters knew, this incident had only happened on the Command Platform.

Throwing caution to the wind, he raced down the stairs until he reached the ground level, and made a dead sprint to the nearest jeep he could find. Winters decided to head to the R&D Platform, home of the smartest guys on the PF, and the most badass weapons known to man short of a nuke. If Cipher sent Skulls to their home, Winters sure as hell wanted a high-grade ALM-48 on his side.

He started the engine, and drove at a steady 65 miles per hour to the R&D Platform. He was already driving as fast as the vehicle allowed, yet time still seemed to slow down around him. As he drove, he heard and felt something speed past him. It was barely perceptible, but he felt it. Recalling one of Miller's briefings back in the day, replete with the man's flair for vivid imagery, there was no mistaking it.

They were under attack by the Skulls.

(-)

"I know it's the Boss we're talking about, but taking on an entire armored regiment by himself? That's an entirely different level of badassery."

"Well, we don't know the exact details though. We could be missing out on some things. Maybe he had air support, or a shit ton of CGM-25s. Still impressive though, I'll admit. The same man took out a Metal Gear for cryin' out—what the?"

It was not everyday you saw a jeep coming your way 25 miles an hour at four in the morning.

The vehicle screeched to a halt, parking 10 meters away from the two Diamond Dogs. Though enjoying small talk just a couple of seconds ago, the two men subconsciously gripped their carbines tighter as the driver stepped out of the jeep, sprinted towards them at full speed, and hollered the last thing any night shift guard would want to hear.

"We're under attack! Raise the alarm!"

Everything happened so fast. Thin, red lines traced across the neck, and blood stains materialized on the fatigues of the guard closer to Winters. The man gurgled as he dropped to his knees, then lifelessly fell on the metal floor. Before the second guard could even bring his weapon to bear, he was hurled across the platform with inhuman force, crashing on a wall some five meters away and breaking his neck.

Swallowing the panic borne of facing an unseen foe, Winters dropped a smoke grenade at his feet.

As the smoke enveloped his immediate surroundings, he put on the night vision goggles he "borrowed," and hoped to God the intruder would have a harder time finding him. As Winters looked around, he saw an armored personnel carrier ten meters away on his left through the rapidly thickening smoke.

It was the longest ten-meter run of his life as he blindly rushed in the direction of the APC. From the looks of it, the R&D guys were probably testing out new toys for armored vehicles, but he could not think about that now. Winters, a Catholic, breathed a prayer that the geniuses around here forgot to lock the vehicle's hatch.

And by God, they had.

Winters clumsily clambered on top of the vehicle, pried the hatch open, jumped inside, and sealed the lid, all in a heartbeat. Thing was, he did not start the vehicle right away. He needed the armor, not offensive mobile capability. He groped for the vehicle's built-in radio, and found it laying haphazardly on the metal floor.

In a second stroke of luck, the radio worked.

"This is George Winters. To anyone who receives this, we're under attack by the Skulls. I repeat, we're under attack by the Skulls. Hit the alarm and don't go anywhere alo—"

The APC jerked forward, knocking Winters off his seat. He would have hit his head against the interior wall had he not braced the steering wheel. It felt like a damn battering ram collided with the rear of the vehicle. Desperately fumbling with the controls, the engine of the APC roared to life.

Only for the steel behemoth to get hit again with even more force, busting the railing in front of it.

With a quarter of the vehicle extending past the platform's edge and sweat running down his brow, Winters shifted to full reverse, but it didn't budge. One last earth-shattering crash was all it took to push the APC over the edge, rapidly descending to the Seychelles below. The massive splash it left in its wake hardly fazed the auburn-haired man standing at the edge of the platform, clad in the same outfit as the Skulls except from the neck up.

What should have been a set of ghastly features instead revealed a cruel, handsome face, with a hooked nose and prominent cheekbones. A clean-shaven chin resided beneath a rather compact face mask, supplying weakened lungs with more oxygen. _A small price to pay for the gifts_ , the Immortal always thought.

Though no one could possibly see it, his lips curled upwards in a smug smile, "Parking their vehicles so close to the edge. At least this idiocy made decent entertainment."

He heard shuffling from his mindless companions behind him, "Set the charges?"

A throaty grunt came in reply. "Now to get the old man's attention. Detonate."


	11. At the Edge of the Precipice

11: At the Edge of the Precipice

"What you just heard, that's all we've got. Any other distress calls, surveillance footages, or sightings of emergency flares in the area— _nothing_. We're completely cut off from our Atlantic FOB. Whoever got the jump on them sure knew what they were doing. And I'm pretty damn sure they let that one distress call from Winters reach us."

After his trusted officer finished, deafening silence pervaded the dimly lit Room 101. Seated by the steel table with Revolver Ocelot opposite him, Big Boss replaced his Walkman on his person, taking in the recording and what the other man just said.

"In that case, there's not exactly a lot to discuss, Ocelot. Is there any way we can hack the FOB's systems from here? Get some more intel? If we're putting one foot in a bear trap, we might as well know how to pry the damn thing open afterwards."

But the cowboy was already shaking his head, "The R&D and Intel teams tried every possible way to do just that, but none worked. Where things stand, they're dead in the water."

Big Boss rose from his seat, "That settles it. Contact Pequod now, I'm going in ten after changing these bandages. I want the Parasite Suit with five armor cartridges loaded onboard the chopper."

"'I'll do that alright, but not so fast, Snake. I know I can't convince you to stay on account of your present condition, but at least take the team I assembled. Ten of our best vets are waiting—"

"To get killed," the Boss cut him off, his retort dripping with venom, "Those _things_ just took out several of our men. I won't risk any more lives Ocelot, and that's that. I'm going in solo."

The cowboy rose as well, resting both hands squarely on the table, "I expected more common sense from you, Boss. This isn't just some contract or wetwork op; do you realize how much is at stake here? You fuck this up, and we could lose an entire FOB, its remaining survivors, and even that thick head of yours. All because you refuse backup this time around? These men are well aware of the risk—"

"It doesn't matter whether they're aware or not; it won't make a difference once a glowing machete blade or bullets out of nowhere make a beeline for your head. So, spare the blood from my hands and just fucking contact Pequod. Time is not a luxury we have right now."

And with that, the horned man strode out of the room.

(-)

He realized there would be no other opportunity later, so he decided tending to old injuries before new ones could take their place. Walking briskly to the nearest restroom in the Intel platform, he entered and locked the door behind him. His vulnerability would only be ever privy to his partner, and not friend nor foe.

Reaching for the medkit in the shelf just beside the large mirror, he then unbuttoned his shirt, hastily removing the old bandages. The mirror came in handy, letting him accomplish his task without peering at his abdomen for long periods of time. As he tended to his recent battle scars, his gaze would occasionally hover on his face. Every time he did, he couldn't help but acknowledge the nagging feeling that a stranger was glaring back at him.

The phantom in the mirror continued to look at him, its lone eye scrutinizing the most desolate corners and recesses of his soul. The gaze was so intense that it cut through fog whose presence eluded him until now. What was this stranger trying to tell him? Snake already knew something was off, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it, bionic or otherwise.

Not that it mattered, truly.

The liberty of dealing with the existential crises and introspecting comes after the mission, he thought defiantly. As he finished with the bandages and buttoned his fatigues, he willed his mind to focus on the mission before him, on the lives he held in his hands. _No more Diamond Dogs will get killed by those freaks_ , thought Snake as he opened the door outside.

The familiar sound of whirring helicopter blades was oddly relaxing. His ride was finally at the helipad.

(-)

"So to recap, bend the wrist down, aim, then press the now protruding button?"

A younger voice responded on his radio, "That's right, Sir. Besides that, keep in mind what kind of prey you're hunting. As you can see, the selector on the inside of your forearm has two options: "SKL" and "HMN."

Big Boss shifted in his seat in the ACC, "Yeah, I see it. Prey, huh? Like the sound of that."

"Got a little carried away with the labels, Boss. Anyways, select SKL, and these babies will home in on the One That Covers. HMN is for the rest of us mortals."

"Got it. Tell me about the operational range and the blast radius."

"Operational range is about 50 meters in our tests, and each missile will pack about the same punch as a C4 charge. But don't worry about CQC, Boss. You can still bash heads all day with your arm, and nothing will blow up prematurely. Redundant safety systems make sure of that."

"I'll take your word for it, Aguila. Break your promise, and I'll haunt the hell out of you."

"Aha, of course, Boss. Shall I clarify anything else?"

The Boss stroked his chin, "I think that's all I need to know. Thanks."

"Glad to be of help, Boss. And Boss, I know you'll bring back our surviving guys. Ingat po. Makatang Aguila out."

Big Boss tucked his radio away. _I will. And I'll send the bastards responsible back to hell._

Thoughts of vengeance were abruptly interrupted by another call. Slightly annoyed, the Boss took out his radio once more.

"This is Snake. Occupied with a mission right now."

"Yes, I thought you would be. You must really hate the Seychelles for leaving so early."

"Quiet? So how are you? And what the hell's that damn noise? You near a helipad or something?"

Snake could have sworn he heard her grunt over the radio, "Something like that, and I'm completely fine. Just... look outside your window."

 _Oh crap, she didn't_ , Snake thought.

Snake hastily peered out of his right window, expecting to see a brunette hanging by the side of his chopper. His heart sped up when he saw nothing. His radio buzzed again, "Other window, Snake." He could already feel her smiling sheepishly at him despite the tension her body must have been enduring.

Snake wheeled around, and sure enough there she was, practically fluttering like a flag on an ominously windy day. How she held on for as long as she did, Snake had no damn clue. Knowing that however, was not exactly the most pressing concern at the moment.

"Alright, hang on tight. I'm opening the door now. Get ready to jump in."

He saw her nod slightly, and took that as a go signal. The door slid open, and before he knew it, Snake was tackled to the floor. He barked at the top of his lungs, fighting back the roaring wind, "Pequod! Doors, now!"

The open helicopter door automatically slammed shut, and the momentary silence was interposed by the pilot, "So uh, welcome aboard, Quiet! Glad to have you back around!"

The sniper only managed a shy smile towards Pequod's direction, not yet quite willing to disclose her reacquired ability to speak. She turned her attention back to Snake, who now looked less than thrilled at the recent turn of events.

Under more normal circumstances, she would have been flushed with embarrassment inadvertently crashing onto him. Trembling hands resting squarely on his broad shoulders, she looked him in the eye, and that was all that mattered for a split second. She was suddenly aware of how well their bodies fell into place, slender curves complementing lean muscle. Any prospect of conduct unbecoming of operators happening was shattered when Snake reacquired his bearings. Four little syllables sliced more deeply at her heart than she anticipated.

"Get off. Move it!" the Boss seethed.

And so she did, clumsily moving to her usual place while her partner did the same. Her legs—her whole body practically—were still shaky from clinging to the flying behemoth for quite a while. Even with her parasite treatment, she still felt like a walking bruise.

Snake began, his livid eye practically boring into her skull, "Quiet, what the hell is your problem with the chain of command? I gave you no order to come with me. Yet here you are, having dangled on the side of this bucket of bolts for how long? Five hours? Tell me what the fuck's going on. Concisely."

Quiet held her ground, matching Snake's withering gaze, but she was nonetheless taken aback deep down.

"It's only been a couple of days after you almost died, and you're already back on the field. How'd you expect me to take it? Tell me, Snake."

"And so you prove that you value my life by being reckless with yours? You had to wait till we're five hours in so I wouldn't have the time to take you back. That just about it?"

She would no longer have any of it. She rose from her seat, standing as tall as cramped interior allowed, and said, "Reckless? Look who's talking. I'm not the one marching to hell with barely half his strength and zero combat support. Are you beginning to understand me, Snake? How this absurd call of yours pisses me off and scares me at the same time?"

"No, because you're not diverting my attention from what's on trial here—your impetuousness. For now, let's say I set aside the fact that you bypassed the chain of command, again. What I can't ignore is how you needlessly put yourself in harm's way, again. If something happened before I realized you were there the whole time..."

He trailed off, finding it difficult to verbalize the wordless emotions coursing within him. It was like trying to translate a foreign tongue he was barely familiar with into his native tongue. He honestly never felt this strongly about the horrendous thought of losing someone very dear to him, not even with The Boss surprising as that might be to some. True, the phantom pain of losing his mentor was certainly there, but the thought of actively fulfilling her will gave him some solace. In a way, a part of her lived on as a part of him.

It was an entirely different story however, for Quiet.

She must have noticed he was drifting off again, for his preoccupied mind only now registered the woman kneeling before him, tentatively cupping his frowning face.

After a few minutes, her lips parted, "I'm sorry. I... I didn't mean to add to the overbearing weight of the world on your legendary shoulders."

Despite his temperament just a few moments before, he let out a small chuckle, "Listen, I know you mean well. I get that. But in this business, the chain of command still holds. When you have orders or lack thereof, I expect you to act accordingly."

A flash of impatience lit up in the sniper's eyes, "I know that! I just want to make sure you'll make it out of this one. You barely walked away from the last encounter, and now you're going against the Skulls again. You only pack that damned parasite suit when intel suggests big trouble ahead."

In hopes of being spared a lecture, it crossed his mind to lie and refute her claim. But he could not, not when this could very well be his last conversation with her.

"Yes. I am. Those men had different reasons behind joining the Diamond Dogs. I'd like to think most believe in our vision; some are probably in it for the paycheck; other probably have nowhere left to go, no other place to call home. All the same, none of them would have had to face those monstrosities if it weren't for me. They're dying because of me. A few scratches here and there won't stop me from pulling their asses out of the fire—"

"Then let me do it with you," she pleaded, throwing arms around him without a second's hesitation, "Please. I already lost everything before, then you changed all that. Let me be selfish this once when I ask of you—don't make me go through that again."

Much later on, he would have to convince her that his decision was for the best, that he in fact saved her life by not permitting her to march into hell and back with him. Snake was never the romantic type, but it would have been the truth had he told her, "I won't, but I also don't have the strength to lose you."

Those were his exact words as he plunged the needle into the small of her bare back.

The prick barely registered in her mind as she lost consciousness, almost instantaneously rather than gradually. Within seconds, her tight embrace around his shoulders slackened, and Snake had to support his partner's languid form. How long he held her in his arms and listened to her steady pulse, he could not say. After a while, he kissed her hair and eased her into her usual spot in the ACC.

As Snake changed into his parasite suit and prepped the rest of his gear, he never thought he would have to use the potent tranquilizer developed by the R&D and Medical teams, and in the situation he found himself now no less. Back in the days following Quiet's capture (it felt like a lifetime ago for all Snake cared, really), Snake placed an order for "a more powerful sleeping agent that could knock out 'enhanced soldiers' within seconds." The teams did not have Code Talker yet at the time, and they had very little to go on with. However, based on the results and analysis of Quiet's physical exam, the team was able to produce a data-driven tranquilizer dart, about as large as the 5.56 NATO round. It could be chambered in modified Renov or M-2000 platforms, was effective enough to get the job done, yet was not overly strong so as to be borderline lethal.

The dart however was never properly field tested; all those claims were based on educated calculations.

The more powerful tranquilizer was developed with a rogue Quiet in mind. Fate proved to be a consummate fox when it forced his hand not to stop treachery, but to prevent death borne of overarching loyalty.

"Never knew she could be so talkative, Boss. And uh, insubordinate to boot. Your charm finally work on her or something?" his pilot quipped, interrupting his thoughts.

Having already donned the entire suit save for the headgear, Snake was not expecting Pequod to chime in, "It's a... long story, Pequod. And that was private talk. Eyes and ears back to the sky."

Snake realized his mistake, but the pilot's stifled laughter and retort came even faster, "Private? Really, Boss? You're lucky we aren't back home, Boss. Whole base could have listened to your chat with all the yelling and growling."

"Now that's taking it too far, young man—"

"Take me with you, Snake!" said the pilot in a shrill voice, utterly unaware of the thin ice he set foot on, "I'll give you all the fire support you need that it wouldn't make sense for you to deny it!"

"Just fly the helo, Pequod. Only saying that once."

Having recognized the dangerously low voice of his commander, the pilot dropped his antic. However, he wasn't letting Snake off the hook so easily.

"To be honest Boss, Quiet does have a point there. I for one would feel a lot better if you had backup in the ensuing firefight."

"There isn't going to be a firefight, Pequod. I'll take out those bastards silently, get our boys, and go home with all survivors. That's it. Bringing her along would only create more problems. Everything clear?"

"As day, Sir."

After a few moments, Snake, having already donned the headgear, placed a small satchel beside the tense pilot. Big Boss spoke with an uncharacteristically deeper voice than usual, perhaps brought about by the suit's accessory.

"We still have a couple of hours before the ETA. I'm gonna get some shuteye. If she shows any signs of waking, give her one dose. And be quick about it. Once we get there, you're gonna keep this bird steady at 9,000 feet above sea level, and she's not going anywhere. She is not coming with me, and we play by my terms. I will personally light up the bastards that got our boys. Are your orders clear, soldier?"

"Orders clear, Boss."


End file.
